


Romance, written on a train

by Amrais



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Depression, Drinking, Drug Addiction, Drugs, Europe, Family, Fencing, Friendship/Love, Graffiti, Homophobia, Hospitalization, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lies, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Music, Not Happy, Police, Rehabilitation, Relationship(s), Sad, Secrets, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Smoking, Strangers to Lovers, Street art-community, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy, vinyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:05:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 36,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9895760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amrais/pseuds/Amrais
Summary: Arthur is a depressed law student, who tries to live up to his fathers expectations. Merlin is an art student by day, tagger at night. One night, their paths cross.





	1. Future starts slow-The Kills

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlytherinnPridee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinnPridee/gifts).



> This one is for you SP because you’ve been with my stories for over a year now, commenting every chapter and encouraging me every time. Thank you so much!!
> 
> Hey guys, I'm trying something new.  
> English is not my first language, so there might be a lot of spelling mistakes, as well as grammatical ones. Please let me know if something is terribly wrong.  
> I would love to hear your opinion, so kudos and comments are very welcome. Please note, that Arthur is quite a lot OOC, but as this is fan fiction, I learned that most of you don't care :)  
> Before I forget, TW for self harm in later chapters, depressiv thoughts as well as thoughts of suicide. Drug use is a part of nearly every chapter. Please don't read if that affects you!  
> Hope you enjoy!

Merlin leans his head tiredly against the window and closes his eyes, but that only works for a few seconds, then the bus has to slow down in the slow- moving rush- hour traffic and his head bumps uncomfortable against the hard surface. So, he opens his eyes again and leans back into his seat. He watches the blond law student trying to balance his hot coffee in his hand, the liquid is threatening to spill over the paper cup any second now. He thinks he’s a law student, cause he has one of these little bags where they put their large books or paper collections in. He just looks as tired as Merlin feels. He has bags under his pale blue eyes and his angular face seems more sharp around the edges than usual.  
They always take the same bus, at the same time, at least Monday, Wednesday and Thursday 9 am, that is. Merlin made watching him a habit. He gets on the bus, five stations after Merlin, at the hall of residence. He always sticks out in the crowd of students, and Merlin wonders, if that’s the case because he’s so good looking – tall, athletic, blond with blue eyes and a sensual mouth, or because he seems so lost. His eyes often have a dreamy expression, as if he was somewhere else, not in a packed bus, with all the other students. Sometimes he looks sad and exhausted, like today.  
Merlin guesses that law is a demanding subject, at least that’s what he’s been told. He himself studies art, not art history, he’s a student at the art school, just next to the main campus. Besides that, he works as a carer for handicap people and the reason why he’s so damn tired today is, that he’s been awake half of the night, spying out the carriage siding at the west end of the city. Trainwriting is his passion, more than bombing the city with his tags. For graffiti on walls he likes to work in a collective, they can do more, large, artful pics, when his little team of five are working together. But Trainwriting he likes to do alone or with Gwen, because, she’s just as fast and unobtrusive as he is. He plans on tagging one of the carriages tonight. For that he has to be prepared, he has to know how many guards are there and where he could get in, without being noticed.  
The bus has finally reached the campus, full 15 minutes too late, Merlin grabs his large folder, were his samples for the portrait assignment are in and yawns into his trademark neckerchief. Just as he passes the blond law student, the boy attempts to get up too, with his mind somewhere else he overlooks Merlin and bumps into him, causing the blond to grip Merlin’s shoulder to keep his balance, unfortunately that doesn’t apply for the rest of his coffee. His hand jerks forward and he spills the content of his cup over Merlin’s folder.  
As Merlin starts to curse, the blond stares at him in shock. As he begins to stutter pathetic apologies, Merlin grabs him by his wrist and drags him out of the bus.  
Outside he releases his wrist, and kneels to inspect the damage the coffee has done to his drawings. Luckily only a few drops are splattered on the first paper, the pencil drawing of Gwen’s face, but nevertheless it is ruined.  
The other boy stands beside him, looking crestfallen and has not stopped to try to apologize, but Merlin does not listen to him, he only sends him an angry glare.  
“Next time, watch where you are going!” he tells him, before he wipes away the coffee and closes the folder, then he quickly walks away, while the other still hasn’t moved and stares after him. 

Arthur’s so tired, but he can’t sleep. Today was horrible. The last few days he had trouble sleeping and when he sleeps, he wakes up even more tired than before. Days like this, he wants to spend in bed, just shutting out the world outside, but he can’t. It’s his first semester at University and he’s determined to proof that he can do it. And then, this morning this terrible thing happened, where he spilled his coffee on the other guys’ artwork. It was so embarrassing. He feels so bad, for being such a clumsy klutz, ruining something so beautiful. The angry face of the guy has haunted him all day, Arthur hates it, when people are angry with him, even if he doesn’t know them. He has seen this guy around, he takes the same bus, three times a week. Not only has he seen him around, that would be an understatement; he has watched him. These gorgeous, deep blue eyes and these prominent cheekbones… he would lie, if he would say he hadn’t noticed. Sometimes he imagines, how he would invite him on a date, sometimes, he even imagines how it would feel to kiss these full lips. But who is he kidding, he would never have the courage to ask him out, especially not now, he’s sure that the lanky boy he dreams about, now hates him. Whatever chance he might had had, it’s gone now. 

Arthur decides to go for a walk, to clear his head, maybe he will be able to sleep afterwards, he can’t afford to fall asleep in his lecture again.  
The night air is cold and the part of the city where he lives is not the most beautiful one, but he doesn’t care. He runs his fingers along the concrete walls, there’s a new graffiti, next to the kiosk. A familiar name; Merlin, he reads and smiles. His father had told him the stories about Merlin the sorcerer, King Arthur and the knights of the round table, because his mother loved these stories so much, she wanted to name him after them.  
He never knew his mother, she died giving birth to him. He has seen many of these tags in this part of the city, maybe the sprayer lives somewhere around here. 

On the bridge, where the railways are running, he stops and looks down. As always when he ends up here, almost automatically, he thinks of jumping. How would it be, to just do it? To fall into the darkness? Here, he wouldn’t have to think about a poor engine driver, running him over, because this is just a siding. But he’s not sure, if the bridge is high enough to really kill him, if he would jump. He wouldn’t of course, he couldn’t do that to his sister or his father. Just sometimes he finds solace in the thought.  
He looks around him, but the streets are deserted, so he swings his legs over the barrier and sits down on the other side, letting his feet dangle into the empty space underneath him. This actually makes him feel alive.  
He looks down at the carriages, only big schemes in the darkness.  
Minutes he just sits there, lost in his thoughts, when a movement between the carriages catches his attention. A shadow, tall as a man. Arthur squints his eyes, to see better, but the man is dressed in black and he can only see him when he moves. He hears a faint hissing sound and wonders what the hell he does down there, when he sees white contours appear on the first carriage. A tagger, he suddenly understands. Fascinated he watches, as the name Merlin takes form. After only thirty minutes, everything is done. 

Pleased with himself, Merlin stuffs his cans back into his backpack and slips out through the hole he has cut into the fence earlier. Putting his headphones on and adjusting his neckerchief, he uses to cover half his face, around his neck again, he slowly walks away from the scene of crime, only to stop short, when he sees someone sitting on the bridge, on the wrong side of the bridge, casually dangling his feet on the edge. But that’s not the part that shocks him most. He’s pretty sure this guy has just seen him, tagging the carriage. The guy hasn’t noticed him yet and Merlin frenetically thinks about his options. Then the guy shifts and Merlin recognizes the law student, who ruined his drawing that morning. On a gut level, he makes a decision.  
“Hey you,” he says, leaning casually against the barrier next to the blond, “thinking of jumping?”  
The other boy startles and for a second Merlin thinks he will lose his balance and fall, but he quickly regains his composure and turns to him with a cocky smile.  
“So, you are Merlin.” He says, “Nice to meet you. I’m Arthur.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are very welcome, even when this fic is finished. I appreciate them all, and will answer every comment... thank you for reading!


	2. This Charming Man - The Smiths

Merlin laughs. “Really? Well, that's fucking perfect. What are you doing here?” He asks.   
“I live here.” Arthur answers and the blushes and begins to stutter. “Well, not here on the bridge, of course, just a few streets from here, at the residence hall.” He gives up on talking and only takes in the large smile on Merlin’s face, that has formed while he was rambling.   
“Why don't we go somewhere else? We could attract too much attention, and I would rather not attract attention.” Merlin points out and Arthur nods in agreement.  
He takes the outstretched hand, Merlin is offering him and climbs back over the barrier.  
Silently they walk side by side, Arthur has no idea where they are going, but he doesn't ask. He feels like his head is spinning. Suddenly they're in a small park, Arthur never has noticed before. Merlin sits down at a bench a little bit hidden by a large willow. Arthur remains standing, wary about what to do.  
Merlin fishes two cans of larger out of his backpack and holds one out to Arthur.   
“I don't bite,” Merlin says with a smile, “sit down already.”   
Arthur takes the beer and finally sits down next to Merlin. They both crack it open.  
Merlin says “cheers” and takes a swig.  
“Cheers” Arthur murmurs. “Listen”, he begins, “I wanted to apologize for ruining your picture; I’m so sorry.”  
“No worries, mate” Merlin says, “my art teacher actually liked it.” He laughs.  
“She drivelled something about", he holds his left hand up and makes the gesture for quotation marks, “creative destruction.”  
He snorts, “Bollocks if you ask me, but I won’t complain about a good grade.”

Arthur suddenly feels light-hearted and a joyful laugh is bubbling in his chest. He leans back on the bench and looks up to the sky, if there are stars, he can’t see them, swallowed by all the bright city lights.  
For a while they don’t talk and Arthur only turns his head, when he hears the quiet click of a lighter and seconds later, the particular smell of weed is wafting around them.  
He smiles and nods, when Merlin passes him the joint. He inhales deeply, let the smoke fill his lunges, before he exhales slowly.  
They smoke in silence, only listening to the noise of the city, buzzing around them.  
Slowly, Arthur can feel a heaviness in his limps, his thoughts are beginning to slow down. Merlin begins to talk, his voice soft and warm, his face hidden in the darkness.  
“You are a law student?” he asks and Arthur has to take a sip of his beer, before he can answer, because his mouth is desert dry.  
“Yeah,” he says, slowly rolling the words of off his tongue. “First semester.”  
“Do you like it?”  
“It’s alright, better than business.” He says with a shrug.  
“Was it your decision to study this, or your parents?” Merlin digs deeper.  
Arthur’s not very pleased in which direction the conversation goes, but answers anyway. “More like my fathers; my Mum died, giving birth to me.” He informs Merlin, effectively shutting him up.  
Arthur sees it as his turn to asks his new friend some questions.  
“How long are you doing this, tagging, I mean?”  
Merlin has to think about this. “Maybe ten years, I think. I started when I was 15, so now that makes ten years.”  
“Did you ever get caught?” Arthur wants to know.  
“Twice,” Merlin nods, “Once when I was 15 and the other time after I turned 17. Brought me some long hours of community service.” He continues to tell Arthur about some of his more narrowly escapes and soon Arthurs’ stomach hurts from laughing. Sure, it’s funny, how Merlin outsmarts the police over and over again, but the hash is playing a part in it, that Arthur is laughing tears now.  
“I’m hungry!” Merlin complains.  
“Me too,” Arthur agrees. “I know a McDonalds, a few minutes from my place, it’s open till two in the morning.”  
Merlin looks at his phone. “It’s 1.20 am now, we should hurry up.”  
They still have over twenty minutes to eat, when they arrive at the rundown fast food restaurant.  
It feels so good, to satisfy their munchies; ice-cream, cheeseburger and chicken nuggets all mixed up.  
Arthur still can feel himself grinning, sitting there, gobbling down, what seems to be the most delicious food at the moment, he surely would find disgusting if he was sober, looking into Merlin’s face, he sees his blue eyes shine with humour, in this moment he’s just happy.  
Merlin builds a little wall out of the wrapping paper at the edge of the table and pulls out a permanent marker, then he quickly writes in the corner: Merlin & King Arthur were here.  
Arthur feels adrenalin rushing through his body, fighting against the weed haze, that is wearing of slowly.  
Merlin writes a number on a napkin and slides it in Arthurs direction.  
“My number,” he tells him. “One of my friends is having a party on Saturday, you want to come?”  
Arthur stares at the napkin and nods, he’s too astonished to say something. 

Merlin walks Arthur back to the hall, before casually saying goodbye, with a small wave and a “See you Saturday,” he’s gone. 

The next day, Arthur wakes up with a smile and the whole day, he catches himself smiling, even in the most boring lecture.  
Not even the perspective of spending the evening with his father can bring him down today.  
Fridays are reserved for Family dinner. That means his father, Morgana and himself. He hates Fridays. 

Morgana made it a point to always arrive late for dinner, just to annoy Uther. When he insisted to ruin her Friday night, she would do her best to ruin his Friday night too.  
Arthur always watched them fight like cat and dog and couldn’t help to feel a bit left out, because, even if they were always fighting, they were a lot closer, then Arthur was to his father.  
Morgan was the daughter of Uther’s best friend, but when he died and her mother went missing just a few weeks after, he adopted her.  
She was three when she came into the family, Arthur was born two years after.  
He would never admit it, but he was a bit jealous, that she had spent two years with his mother, even if she couldn’t remember her to clearly.  
Morgana only told Arthur about Igraine, when he was searching comfort from his big sister, because Uther had been harsh, cold and denying. As a boy, Arthur never understood, what he’d done wrong, when everything he did was to try and please his father, but it was never enough.  
Morgana always told him, that Arthur reminded Uther too much of his mother, as she had been warm-hearted and kind, just like Arthur.  
Some nights, when he still had been little, she had shared the bed with her brother, wiping away his tears, telling him, that his mother had loved him, and his father loved him too, but couldn’t show it. He always thought that she was lying.  
The last time she told him that, he was sixteen and just came out to them. Uther angrily had stormed out of the house, and Arthur had locked himself into the bathroom on the first floor.  
Morgana was pleading him to open the door and not to do something stupid. At that time, she was the only one, who knew that he was harming himself on a regular basis.  
He could hear her crying, but only when she mentioned his mother, telling him that Igraine wouldn't wanted him to hurt himself, he finally opened the door. 

Arthur sits on the last step of the stairs, watching Morgana slip into her black high heels. She looks gorgeous. Her long legs are accentuated by the tight black jeans she’s wearing and her green eyes are brought out by the dark green top, clinging nicely to her slender figure. Her long, dark hair cascades wildly down to the middle of her back.  
“You look great.” Arthur compliments her and she smiles at him.  
“I’m meeting Morgause and her new boyfriend for drinks, do you want to come along?” she offers him. But Arthur shakes his head.  
“He’ll be mad, if we both leave early. I’ll stay and probably study a bit.” He says.  
“You should go out more, little brother, it’s not good for you to stay at home all the time.” Morgana chides.  
“I’m going to a party tomorrow,” Arthur grins, “Guess with whom.”  
Morgana thinks for a second but then she shakes her head, “I don’t know,” she says, “tell me!”  
“The guy from the bus.” Arthur says triumphant.  
“What, Mr. Blue eyes?”  
“Yes!”  
Morgana smiles mildly about his excitement.  
“How come?”  
“I spilled coffee on his artwork.” Arthur tells her sheepishly and Morgana laughs.  
“And then he invites you to a Party? Strange guy.”  
“We met that evening again by chance and we started talking, then we went to eat something and in the end, he invited me.” Arthur gives her the censored version of the events.  
“Well, I wish you good luck.” Morgana bends down, to give him a kiss on the top of his head. “You deserve it.”  
Halfway out of the door, she turns around again, “Call me, tell me how it went!” she says, before closing the door behind her.  
Arthur sighs and goes back into the kitchen, to help his father tidy up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos so far.  
> Let me know what you think, don't be shy and leave comments!   
> I'm open to constructive criticism.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	3. Just like heaven -The Cure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments, feel free to leave one.

Arthur always was good at hiding his true feelings behind the mask of the cocky loudmouth.  
He would never admit, that going to that party made him nervous. So he leans casually against the wall, opposite to the apartment building where Merlin had told him to pick him up. One foot up against the wall, he wishes he had cigarettes with him, because then he would know what to do with his hands, but he normally doesn’t smoke, not anymore, he’s too much of a sportsman for that. He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

Merlin comes out of the door and shuts it with a kick, when he turns around and smiles, Arthur is melting. Literary so, he can feel the heat rush to his face, and he’s sure, that he’s blushing horribly. Thankfully its already twilight, and he hopes that Merlin can’t see it.  
“Hi there.” Merlin says cheerfully, when he swings his backpack over his shoulder, his cans are rattling inside, just as cheerful.  
Arthur pushes away from the wall, clapping hands with Merlin casually, whishing he could hold it longer, so he lets go of it quickly.  
“Do you go anywhere without your cans?” he asks.  
Merlin shakes his head. “No, you never know, when you get the opportunity.” He gifts Arthur with a mischievous grin.  
“And do you tag everything?” Arthur is curious.  
“No churches and usually no private houses, the little ones, you know.” Merlin tells him.  
“About these big complex of buildings, I don’t care. I make them more interesting, if the architects decide to let people live in these, grey, uninspired, depressing buildings, I don’t see how a little colour can hurt.” Merlin is getting rather excited, talking about what he sees to be his purpose in that city. 

They take the underground out to the suburbs, and walk down a quiet road, with small one family houses.  
At the end of the road, Merlin rings the doorbell of a little house, with a red front door. A girl opens. She has chocolate brown skin, soft, deep brown eyes and dark, curly hair. Her smile is stunning. She flings her arms around Merlin’s neck, and Arthur has to fight a sudden rush of jealousy.  
Merlin introduces her as Gwen and Arthur hides his dislike for her behind a blinding smile, he knows has a certain effect on girls. But Gwen just smiles back friendly and steps aside, to let them in.  
Voices are coming from the room to their left, and after they have taken off their shoes, Arthur follows Merlin into the room. Several people are sitting on the couch or on the floor, around one big, round coffee table. Most of them are boys, or more precisely men, that act like boys.  
All of them cheer, when they see Merlin enter the room.  
Merlin smiles his bright smile and pulls Arthur into sight.  
“Hey, Guys,” he grins, “let me introduce you to King Arthur.” He says, and Arthur doesn’t know, if he likes his new nickname or if he finds it embarrassing.  
“Hi,” he says coolly, “what’s up?”  
One of the guys, sitting on the floor, gets up and Arthur is impressed by his body height, he’s one head taller than Arthur, and he’s not small.  
“Hey mate, I’m Percy.” He holds out his hand, and Arthur briefly shakes it.  
“Just Arthur,” he says, “without the King.”

Percy sits down again, and accepts the joint the man to his right passes him. Now with his hands free, he too waves at Arthur.  
“I’m Leon, nice to meet you.” He runs his fingers trough his shoulder long hair.  
The guy, who sits on the armrest of the chair Gwen sits in introduces himself as her brother Elyan, he eyes Arthur up and shakes his head.  
“He looks too young to be called King, I would suggest you call him Prince. Prince Arthur.” He grins and the others accept his suggestion with agreeing nods.  
The man next to Elyan, devours Gwen with his eyes, and says shortly “I’m Lance.”  
The guy sitting on the far end of the couch, is too busy making out with some girl on his lap, so Merlin says:  
“And that’s Gwain and eh,…”  
“Freya.” Percy helpfully butts in.  
“Yeah, Freya.” Merlin says amused.  
Gwain waves a free hand into Arthurs direction, but doesn’t stop to whisper things into the girl’s ear, that make her giggle.

Merlin gestures Arthur to sit down, and he takes a seat next to Percy, who promptly passes him the joint.  
Arthur has to cough, after the first drag, it is a hell of a mix, quickly takes two more drags, before he passes it on to Merlin.  
Leon skins up the next one already. The conversation is flowing lazily, and Arthur has a hard time to follow. They are talking mostly about graffiti projects. Percy begins to talk about an old action movie Arthur has never seen, but he doesn’t care. He listens and nods and laughs about Percy’s funny expressions. He doesn’t know if hours passed or minutes, not used to smoking so much, he has lost his feeling for time.  
Somewhere a long the line, someone orders Pizza and he just briefly wonders if he’ll gain weight with all the fast food he’s eating lately, but then he decides, he couldn’t care less. 

“Guys, its already 10 pm, shouldn’t we get going?” Merlin asks after a glance to his watch, but he only raises some unwilling murmur.  
“I’m not in the mood for Mordred’s party,” Lance complains, and the others agree.  
“He’s an arsehole.” Gwain gets out, between two kisses.  
“Alright, Alright.” Merlin lifts his hands and leans back into his armchair.  
“If that’s ok with you?” he asks Arthur, “I promised you a party.”  
“No worries, I’m totally fine.” Arthur slurs lazily.  
“Yeah, and totally stoned.” Merlin laughs.  
“I am.” Arthur is having the giggles and Percy and Leon are laughing along.  
Arthur closes his eyes, feels the room floating. This is just like heaven, he thinks.  
Then he feels something touching his hair and he opens his eyes again. Lance has put a paper crown on his head, like the ones you get at Burgerking.  
“Welcome to the Camelot- Crew, Prince Arthur.” He says.  
Arthur is totally confused. “What?”  
“Didn’t Merlin tell you? We are the Camelot- Crew, or CC.” he tells him proudly.  
“You tellin me, you’d tag the giant face of the queen on Mavelstreet?”  
“Sure mate, I’m surprised Merlin didn’t brag about it.”  
“He didn’t say anything.”  
“Yeah, well that’s what we do.” Lance leans back with the spliff in his hand.  
“Why do you call yourself Camelot- Crew? Because of Merlin?” Arthur wants to know.  
“Yeah, when he started to call himself Merlin, we all went to school together and we had a football team, that we called Camelot- Club, but after we started to develop other interests, we choose the name for our Graffiti- Crew.” Lance explains.  
“So, Merlin ‘s not his real name, then?” Arthurs curiosity is piqued.  
Lance shakes his head and laughs, “God no, but don’t tell him, that I told you. He hates his real name.”  
In the end, Arthur nearly falls asleep on the couch and Merlin insists that they go home. Tired and happy, Arthur sits opposite to Merlin in the underground. He’s so stoned, that he doesn’t feel embarrassed as he stares at Merlin.  
He’s not good looking in the classical sense.  
He has slightly protruding ears and he's lanky and awkward. But he has a charisma, that is fascinating. His lively blue eyes are shimmering with emotions, making reading him easy as an open book. And these high, sharp cheekbones. Arthur wants to outline them with his finger, he wants to taste these full lips.  
“What?” Merlin asks.   
Arthur startles from his inappropriate thoughts. “Hmm?”   
“You were staring at me.” Merlin says. “Are you alright?” He sounds concerned.  
“Yeah, sure.” Arthur runs his hand over his eyes.   
“Just tired, I suppose.” He lies.   
“Next station is ours,” Merlin reassures him.   
Arthur wouldn't mind, to spent the whole night on the tube, looking at Merlin.   
But he stumbles out of the station after him, let him walk him home with a reasonable distance between them, although he wants to take his hand so badly.   
When they reach the residence hall, Merlin looks at Arthur with concern.   
“Are you sure that you are alright? You're so silent. “he says. Arthur nods, he doesn't trust his voice right now.   
“Well, alright then, I leave you to it.” Merlin is a little bit irritated by Arthur's behavior.   
He holds his hand out to say goodbye. Reluctantly Arthur slaps his hand into Merlins. And suddenly it's like he's in another world. He doesn't let go of Merlin’s hand, instead he leans in and presses his lips on Merlin’s mouth. But it only lasts seconds, before Arthur realizes what he's doing and he stumbles back.   
Panic is flooding his body, you don't do that, kiss your friend, just like that. Merlin will hate him now.   
“I'm sorry,” he stutters. “God Merlin, I’m so sorry…I know I shouldn't. It won't happen again, I promise.” Because he's looking around him in panic, everywhere but at Merlin, he doesn't notice, that Merlin steps closer. Suddenly he feels Merlin’s warm hands on his arms.   
“Arthur, calm down.” Merlin says quietly. “Calm down, it’s alright. Look at me!”  
Arthur looks up into Merlin’s face and sees that he smiles. He steps even closer and then he presses his lips on Arthurs. He rests like this, until Arthur overcomes his shock and open his mouth a little, to let Merlin’s tongue in. At first, they tentatively let their tongues dance around, but quickly the kiss becomes heated.  
When it ends, Arthur has to grab Merlin’s shoulder, because his head is spinning.  
For the second time that night, he thinks: ‘Just like heaven.’  
“Breakfast tomorrow?” Merlin asks and Arthur wonders, how he could sound so calm.  
He nods perplex.  
“I’ll pick you up at 11.” Merlin states and makes a slight bow. “Goodnight my Prince.” He teases, before he turns around.  
When Arthur catches a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror, he sees, that he’s still wearing the paper crown.  
 


	4. Commit A Crime - The Rolling Stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment, constructive criticism is always welcome!!

„Hey Arthur,“ Gwain shouts into his ear, as he plops down next to him. “Alright? You seem a bit tired, mate.”  
And he is, he's so damn tired. It's been two weeks since Merlin kissed him and they’ve been meeting almost every night, while by day he tries to get his things done, because the end of the term is around the corner and that means exams are coming closer. On top of that, he has to train daily, as the fencing tournament is in two weeks. Arthur can't even remember, when he slept more than five hours.  
“I am tired, I'm so fucking tired, I could sleep right here, right now.” He points at the threadbare armchair he's sitting in, feet dangling over the arm. Tonight they are at Percy's small apartment. Arthur hates it, that Merlin still hasn't invited him to his apartement, all they do is spending time with Merlins friends. So far, they’ve barley been alone together.  
“Maybe I have something for you.” Gwain whispers mysteriously and shows Arthur a little plastic bag, lying in the palm of his hand. It contains some white powder.  
Arthur eyes it suspiciously, “What's that? Coke?” He asks.  
Gwain shakes his head. “No, just a bit of Amphetamine.” He shakes the bag casually, “You want some?”  
“No, thank you.” Arthur refuses politely.  
Gwain shrugs his shoulders, “ you know where to find me, if you change your mind.” He pats Arthurs shoulder, before he disappears again.  
Two hours later, Merlin shakes Arthur awake.  
“I'm sorry, I know you had a hard week.” Merlin apologies.  
Arthur only yawns.  
“Why don't we have a quiet evening tomorrow? You come over, I’ll cook, if you want.”Merlin suggests.  
Arthur shakes his head. “I can't. Friday’s family dinner.” he reminds Merlin.  
“Right,” Merlin remembers. “And afterwards?”  
“I could try to leave early.” Arthur thinks out loud. “Maybe 10 or 11.”  
“Sure.”Merlin smiles and kisses Arthur, “it's a date.” 

Arthur picks up Chinese takeaway, because Uther had called and asked him too. That means that his father is stressed, busy with work. Usually that makes him very short tempered.  
Most of the meal, they sit in silence, or listening to Uther complaining about work. He's in a bad mood, and even Morgana knows better, than to pick a fight with him today.  
His cold eyes are resting scrutinizing on Arthur, who trys to ignore his fathers piercing look.  
“How are your studies going, Arthur?” Uther asks sharply.  
Arthur swallows what he was chewing, before he answers.  
“There fine, Dad. A lot to do, with fencing on top, but I get by.” He reasures him.  
Morgana chuckles quietly. “ Do you get anything done, with your new boyfriend and all?” She teases him carelessly and even if Arthur tries to shush her, it's too late.  
He can see Uthers face twist into a mask of barely concealed anger.  
“Arthur,” he says stiffly, “I hope you are aware of the fact, that I don't pay for your education, so that you can go out and party and do god knows what.” His voice is bitter.  
Arthur feels his own anger flare up.  
“Dad, I spent five hours at the library today. I learn, I train. I do everything I can to be successful.” He says.  
Uther only clicks his tongue in disapproval.  
“Do you think, I don't know what you do?” Uther asks angrily. “Party's and drugs and orgys. I know what I'm talking about Arthur! I often enough have been called to put an end to this things.”his face begins to redden.  
“Uther…” Morgana tries to interrupt, but has no chance.  
“Just let me tell you son, that you won't see another penny, if you fail any of your exams.” Uther warns.  
Arthur knows, that he can't do that, legally his father has to pay, but nevertheless this hits him hard.  
“I know that you have a queer opinion about gay people,” Arthur says slowly, “but I thought you’d give me a little more credit.”  
“That has nothing to do with you being gay…” Uther begins, but Arthur shakes his head.  
“Yes, it does, if I had a girlfriend, you’d ask me to bring her here on Friday, but sadly, I have a boyfriend, so you accuse me of fucking around, spending your money for party's and being lazy." he pushes his chair back and strolls out of the kitchen.  
Morgana follows after him.  
„This is my fault, I shouldn't have said anything.” She blames herself.  
Arthur kisses her cheek, before he slips into his jacket. “No, it's not your fault, that my father’s a homophobe prick. Nothing new here.” He says with a shoulder shrug.  
“I call you tomorrow.” He tells Morgana, before he slams the door behind him. 

Merlin is poring over his vinyl collection, he has no idea what Arthur likes, so he has to pick something neutral. Maybe The Rolling Stones, at least everybody knows them. Their latest Album is calmer than others. The perfect background music.  
Earlier than he had expected, the doorbell rings, and Merlin presses the buzzer and tells Arthur to come to the third floor.  
The moment, he sees him, he knows there is something wrong.  
Arthur is breathing heavily, as if he had run all the way, his eyes look dark and stormy. Without saying anything, he wraps his arms around Merlin's waist and starts to kiss him.  
The kisses are aggressive and nearly violent. More teeth, than lips or tongue. He pushes Merlin backwards into the flat and tugs impatiently on Merlins shirt.  
Merlin needs force, to push Arthur away.  
“Stop that.”Merlin demands, they are both trying to catch their breath.  
“What?” Arthur asks. “You don't want to fuck me?”  
Merlin shakes his head. “Not like this. Not when you are so angry.”  
“I'm not angry.” Arthur yells and feels betrayed by his own emotions.  
“Do you want to talk about it?”Merlin asks softly.  
Arthur stands in the middle of the room, looking, as if all energy has suddenly left his body.  
“My Dad,” Arthur murmurs, “he's an arsehole. Do you have something to smoke?” he adds after a short pause.  
“Yeah, come on. Sit down.” Merlin guides Arthur to his mattress and stuffs the bowl of his bong tightly, before he passes it to him.  
Arthur is too inexperienced to hold the bong and light it at the same time, while inhaling the smoke. So Merlin lights it for him.  
A minute later, he feels himself already relax a bit.  
They spent hours with listening to records, Arthur has no clue about music but Merlin finds out, that apparently he likes Joy Division and the Smiths. That's a basis Merlin can work with.  
It's after midnight, when Arthur decides to go home. Merlin offers him to stay and sleep over, but Arthur declines. The thought of all the work he has to do the next day, gives him a fluttering sensation deep down in his stomach, momentarily quieted by a calming haze.  
They share a parting kiss. Lazy and so much softer than earlier.  
“See you tomorrow. Sleep tight.” Merlin kisses him again, after Arthur has slipped into his sneakers.  
“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”  
The night air clears his head a bit, and he walks faster, he needs to go home, sleep, get up early, study all day.  
He doesn't bother with brushing his teeth, he only slips out of his shoes and jeans and lays down.  
Frustrated, Arthur lets his face sink into his arms, for hours he's trying to memorize these model cases, but he always mixes them up. Finally he gives up, and goes to buy himself some beer. He doesn't care that it is only four in the afternoon, he's getting a head start for the party tonight.  
He sits down at the park bench and watches the kids playing football, he much he envy them, without a care in the world. But he remembers, that when he was a child, he had wished to be grown up. So maybe, it would be the same for him, just stuck, wishing for the things he can't have.  
Arthur grabs Gwain by his arm and pulls him into a quieter corner. Merlin has gone to get them some drinks, and Arthur nervously watches out for him.  
“Hey Prince…,” Gwain complains over being manhandled.  
“Do you have something, that can help me study?” Arthur whispers. “I’ve heard there are medication, that helps you study.” He repeats. His heart is hammering in his chest. If his father knew... he would kill him. But he's desperate. Only this once, he tells himself.  
A grin appears on Gwain’s face. “Sure mate, Ritalin it is. Tomorrow. 50 pounds.”  
Arthur nods. “Alright.”  
“Better don't tell Merlin.” Gwain warns, before Merlin appears next to them, and passes a can of beer to Arthur.  
“What are you doing here in the corner, like you are plotting something?" He laughs.  
Arthur blushes a little.  
“We were just talking, it's so loud, that you can't understand your own words.” He defends himself.  
Merlin puts his arm around Arthur's waist and starts to kiss him, ignoring Gwain, who still stands next to them.  
The later makes a gagging sound and cheerful tells them to get a room before he strolls away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as I sadly watch the subscriptions fade away, I wonder if it is because it is badly written, or if they had expected something different??  
> This is not a sappy, happy love story, but a story about a strong relationship. Getting through highs and lows. Staying at each other's side.  
> I hope some still keep reading.  
> Please let me know, if it is badly written or just not everyone's cup of tea.  
> Thanks for reading!!


	5. Hallelujah - Leonard Cohen

Thoughtfully Arthur lets one of the little white pills roll back and forth on his hand. It's a week since he has them, but he hasn't touched them yet.  
But now he takes a sip of water and swallow it with a shoulder shrug. This won't kill him and if it helps to finally make some progress, he'll risk it.  
He sits down at his desk, he neatly organized it earlier and starts to read, while he waits for anything to happen.  
Ten minutes later, his ears pop, like he's underwater and his vision feels narrowed down it to what he would describe as a tunnel vision, although he can see perfectly fine.  
He continues reading.  
The next time he looks up from his books, two and a half hour have passed.  
He drinks some water and stretches his cramped limbs.  
He smiles, he nearly is through with all the stuff he wanted to do today.  
So he sits down, finishing the rest, while the drug still is working.  
An hour later he's done and he feels, that the Ritalin is wearing off.  
He looks at his mobile. Five missed calls and several WhatsApp messages.  
Most of them are from Morgana, but some of them from Merlin and one new notification from his study group.  
Morgana’s last two messages are sounding worried and he decides to call her.  
She picks up immediately.  
“Arthur,” she shouts into the phone, “Are you alright?”  
“Why wouldn't I be?” Arthur is confused.  
“I don't know, I'm getting the feeling that you are pretty stressed out, right now, and then I don't reach you for nearly four hours. It scared me.” She says sheepishly.  
“You don't need to worry about me. I'm fine.”Arthur reassures her. “I was studying, and the phone was silent.” He explains.  
“I know, Uther pressures you a lot, but Arthur, please don't overwork yourself. You are good enough.” Morgana repeats, what she had told him since they were children.  
“I know.” Arthur says, “I'm fine, I promise.”  
“Ok,” Morgana hesitates, “Actually I was calling you, to tell you that Family dinner is cancelled tonight. Uther has to work. He asked me to call you." Arthur is glad, that the Dinner is cancelled, but he feels a bit hurt, that his father doesn't even bother to call him personally. Morgana clears her throat. "Arthur?" She asks. "Right," he says. "See you next week." "Yeah, see you next week. Listen, I have to go now, but you know that you can talk to me, about everything, darling.” She stresses.  
“I know, don't worry.” He tells her again.  
“Alright, bye.” Morgana ends the call.  
Arthur stares down at the phone in his hand, he feels bad for lying to his sister.  
He's not fine, right now he is struggling. But the Ritalin worked wonders, and if he's only on top of his studies again, everything will be alright. 

Then he checks Merlins messages, there as cheerful as ever, some cute cat gifs and an invitation to spent the night at his place.  
He gladly replies a yes to that question.  
Spending time with Merlin makes forget about all the things he has to do and about the consequences if he's not the best in everything he does.  
It makes him feel less lonely, less awkward. Merlin doesn't make him feel, as if there's anything wrong with him. Merlin gives him the feeling, that it is ok for him to be himself. 

His phone plings and Merlin looks down at the screen.  
A message from Arthur, a yes for spending the night together…  
Merlin hums happily.  
He wants to make something special for Arthur tonight. He knows that Arthur is stressed, he can see it in his tired eyes, how he nervously nibbles on his fingernails sometimes. 

He decides to cook for him, more than Spaghetti he can hardly do in his small kitchenette, but he knows that Arthur’s not exactly picky.  
But he goes out to buy red wine, because he can't stand the can beer anymore. For once he wants something different. He doesn't buys the most expensive wine, but not the cheapest either. 

Merlin has finished the sauce, and set his rickety kitchen table, which is so small, that the plates are nearly touching. In his flat, there is not much room for distance, but with Arthur he's not looking for distance. He wants closeness. 

He puts a empty wine bottle with a candle on the table. This looks so much like a romantic Hollywood cliché, but he likes it.  
The doorbell rings, and he goes to open the door. He leaves the door open and returns to the kitchen. Only the spaghetti need to be cooked.  
He hears Arthur enter the flat and close the door.  
“Hey,” Arthur says, resting his arms on the counter between the kitchenette and the room.  
Merlin turns around and smiles at him. He looks so fucking good. His hair is slightly disheveled and his blue eyes are sparkling. Merlin leans over to kiss him.  
“Hey,” he says too.  
“You cooked?” Arthur asks amazed, looking at the small table.  
Merlin blushes. “It's not much, only noodles with tomato sauce.”  
“It's great.” Arthur exclaims, “can I help you with something?”  
“No, I'm almost done. You could choose some music.” Merlin suggest. 

“I don't know what to pick.” Arthur calls from the other side of the room. “I don't even know half the stuff you have.”  
“Leonard Cohen would be nice.” Merlin calls back. “It's organized alphabetically.”  
Arthur carefully pulls out the first record he sees. Songs of Love and Hate.  
He helplessly looks at the turntable, he only ever had CDs before the MP3 took over.  
He doesn't notice Merlin sneaking up from behind, and he jumps a little when Merlin wraps his arm around his waist.  
“I have no idea how this thing works,” he confesses.  
Merlin takes the record and opens the lid of his turntable, then he carefully pulls the record out of its sleeve.  
“You have to hold it by the edges, with both hands, try to not touch it at all,” he explains, while he sets the record down on the sleaze, covering the turntable.  
“Then you have to turn it on, here” he shows Arthur the on off button. “And then you have to press the start/stop button.” The record begins to spin. He holds a small brush over the black vinyl and brushes away the dust.  
“Then you have to move the cuing lever back, now you can move the tone arm carefully over. When the needle is over the edge of the record, you can move the lever forth again and the needle comes down." He says, dropping the needle.  
The next moment, the room is filled with deep music, a fast, chopped pattern is played on a classic guitar. When the melancholic voice starts to sing, it sends a shiver down Arthur's spine.  
“Come on, dinner is ready my prince.” Merlin says with a slightly mocking bow. 

Arthur has to admit, that he is touched by Merlins gesture. Nobody ever cooked for him. Of course his father did, or the the housekeeper, sure, but just to keep him and Morgana from starving, until they were old enough to cook for themselves.  
Merlin has to get up twice; to turn the record and then to choose a new one.  
“Wouldn't it easier to play it from MP3?” Arthur asks.  
“It would.” Merlin agrees. “But the sound, it's different. And of course there’s the crate digging. On MP3 I can buy all the stuff I want immediately, but with records I have to be patient, keep looking until the one I want comes along.” Merlins eyes a sparkling with excitement. 

They were done with eating, taking their wine glasses with them. They sit down on Merlins bed, a double mattress on the floor, because he only has one chair, besides the two kitchen stools, and a big drawing desk. No other furniture. 

After a while, they start kissing, just while Hallelujah starts to play.  
They only stop kissing as the record is finished and as Merlins turntable has no stop automatic, the needle runs over the label and makes a horrible scratching sound.  
Merlin gets up and turns it of. Without the static crackle of the vinyl, the silence hangs heavy over the room.  
Only their erratic breathing can be heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planed to make this chapter a lot longer, but I'm not very good at writing smut, so I need more time for that. Unfortunately I have a lot to do with Uni and stuff, so I thought I post what I have so far and take my time to concentrate on writing decent smut :) 
> 
> This time it's not a British artist, but I couldn't resist on writing about L.Cohen.  
> Rest In Peace
> 
> I love comments, so please take your time to share your opinion...  
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Perfect Day -Lou Reed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning Self-harm scars

Slowly Merlin walks back to Arthur, and Arthur is looking at him. Blue eyes locked, they study their faces. Still, the static seems to crackle in the air.  
Arthur feels electrified, the short hairs on his arms are standing up.  
Before Merlin reaches the mattress, Arthur gets up.  
The silence echoes loud in the small room, only disturbed by the creaking of the floorboards under their weight and the running water in the neighbors flat.  
They kiss again, soft and promising. Merlin pulls Arthur down on the unmade bed.  
Merlin’s hands are cold, as they are exploring the outlines of Arthur’s body, but that’s not the main reason why Arthur shivers.  
Anticipation is winding up every cell in his body.  
Impatiently, he presses his knee between Merlin’s legs, rubbing at his groin. Merlin laughs.  
“Wait,” he tries to slow down Arthur and gets up again. He fishes some condoms out of a box next to his bed. In a questioning gesture, he holds the little packets in the air.  
“Yes” Arthur says, “Fuck yes.”  
Merlin throws the condoms and the lube next to Arthur and shreds his shirt, before he lays down again.  
Arthur lets his hands wander over Merlin’s lithe body. With his fingertips, he explores the white, smooth skin. Merlin has no hair on his chest, only a small dark path, that runs down from his navel and vanishes into his pants and boxers, shy and promising at the same time.  
Arthur slips between Merlin’s legs, opening his belt and tugging at his pants. Merlin helps to pull them down, don’t bothering to keep the boxers on.  
And so, he lies naked in front of Arthur, who himself is still fully clothed.  
Arthur pauses, to take the sight of Merlin in.  
He’s spread out in front of him, his long limps and the barely visible curve of his hips, reminds him of the wonderful marble sculptures Michelangelo made.  
His dark hair is a strong contrast to his milk white skin and for Arthur, Merlin’s beauty is breathtaking in this moment.  
Merlin watches him with half lidded eyes, as Arthur lowers his mouth over his groin. He can feel his hot breath hovering over his member.  
But at first Arthur only takes it in his hands, explores his length and thickness, burrows his fingers into his pubic hair, fits his hand around Merlin’s balls, massages his scrotum.  
Then he licks it, from the base to the tip, flicking the frenulum with the tip of his tongue playfully.  
Merlin moans, as Arthur does so, circling the tip of his cock lazily, while moving his hand up and down his shaft.  
Merlin grips into Arthurs hair und pulls slightly, until he looks at him. Gripping his chin, forcing him softly to move up again, catching him with a passionate kiss. 

“If you are going on like this, I gonna come in seconds.” He warns breathlessly. Then he notices that Arthur is still wearing all his cloths.  
“Let’s give you some pleasure too.” He says, while beginning to unbutton Arthurs shirt. Suddenly Arthur looks somewhat uncomfortable. Merlin stops.  
“What’s wrong?” he asks.  
Strangely, Arthur blushes. “Nothing,” he says quickly.  
Merlin doesn’t believe him. Maybe Arthur is self-conscious, he thinks. But why would he be, looking like he does? Merlin is sure that Arthur, under his cloths, must look like someone people would call Adonis.

He continues to unbutton his shirt, and when he reaches the last button, he thinks that he sees something like a silent plead in Arthurs eyes. He stops again, to give Arthur the time to say no, if he really doesn't want this, but Arthur is oddly limp and absent minded.

When Merlin slips the shirt over Arthurs shoulders, he immediately can see what the problem is. Scars. Lots of white, raised scars are littering Arthurs left shoulder, creeping down on the left side of his chest. They are thin and neatly placed next to one another, hardly showing any space of undamaged skin between them. They look clean, surgically and organized. Nonetheless disturbing.

“Arthur?” Merlin asks carefully, still holding the shirt in his hand. Arthur stays silent, he looks away.  
“Can you just ignore them?” he pleads.  
Merlin has to force his eyes away, force himself, to concentrate on Arthurs otherwise flawless body.  
“Yeah,” he says after a long, awkward pause. “Yes, don’t worry.” He wants to add, that he still thinks that he is beautiful, but he doesn’t.  
Instead he caresses the silky skin on Arthurs flat stomach, follows the shapes of his arm muscles with his fingers. He feels Arthur relax under his exploring fingers, and soon he is squirming and panting.  
Merlin smiles, as he teases him through his jeans. When Arthur is a whimpering mess under him, he shows mercy and pulls them off.  
He kisses and softly bites into his muscular thighs. Now, he’s taking the lead and Arthur gladly lets him. When he lubes up his fingers and buries them deep into him, he soon begs for more.  
When in the beginning, Merlin was careful not to touch Arthurs scars, unsure if not to make Arthur uncomfortable, or because he felt uncomfortable about them, this caginess was now forgotten, as Arthur was bucking underneath him, while he gave into his orgasm. 

A little bit later, they are lying side by side. Sleepily sharing a joint. This is a lot better than just the cigarette after sex.  
Arthur feels, as if he is swimming in a deep, warm pond, gliding through dark, opaque water.  
“I know that you want to ask questions." Arthur says suddenly, startling Merlin out of his thoughts.  
“So ask. Maybe I’ll answer them.”  
Merlin thinks about the offer. Thinks about declining it, but Arthur makes it sound like now is the only chance to ask questions. He thinks about what he really wants to know. He doesn’t ask why, he knows that’s a question Arthur most likely will not answer.  
He goes for the facts.  
“When did you start?” he begins.  
Arthur seems slightly irritated by that, obviously, he was expecting the why- question.  
“Ah, 15, 16, I think.” He says thoughtfully.  
Even if there are no fresh wounds, one question needs to be asked.  
“Do you still do it?”  
Long silence follows this question, only the light sizzling noise of the slowly burning joint can be heard, Arthur takes a drag, inhales and exhales deeply.  
“Haven’t done it in quite a while. Six months I think.” He passes the spliff to Merlin.  
Concentrating on inhaling the smoke and not letting the ash fall on his bedsheets helps Merlin to conceal how unsettled he is. To him, six months are not a long time.  
“Did you ever talked to someone about it?” He puts the joint out in the ashtray on the floor.  
“You mean like therapy?” Arthur laughs bitterly. “No. I’ve tried, but they aren't listening. It's a total waist of time.”  
“But maybe you just haven't found the right one?” Merlin suggest.  
“Why would I need to find the right one? I’m fine Merlin, don't worry.” His tone indicates that this conversation is over.  
For Merlin, the marred skin on Arthur's naked shoulder doesn't look fine, but he says nothing anymore. As he watches Arthur drifting into a light sleep, he can't help but wonder if his boyfriend keeps other things from him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I have a question at all the native speakers.  
> Is there a name in English for the path of hair that runs down from the navel to the more private parts(on the male body)? In my language it has a name that could be translated with 'path of happiness' but I couldn't find a proper translation...
> 
>  
> 
> And thanks for reading!!


	7. Total Trash -Sonic Youth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, very nerdy chapter. Merlin(me), going on about records.  
> Hope it's not to boring for the people who are not crazy in love with vinyl...  
> Let me know what you think, do you like that stuff, or is it too boring?  
> At least these two are happy for once.  
> Thanks for reading!!

Carefully Merlin sits down at the edge of the mattress, balancing two cups of coffee in his hands.  
“Rise and shine, your majesty.” He says cheerful, smiling down at Arthur.  
Arthur looks up to him and blinks sleepily.  
“What time is it?” He asks.  
“8 in the morning.”  
Arthur curses under his breath. “And why would you get up this early on a Saturday, after we’ve been awake half the night?”  
“It's crate digging day.” Merlin simply stats.  
“What?” Arthur frowns, he has no clue what Merlin is talking about.  
“Hunt for records in the record stores.” Merlin explains further.  
Arthur lets his head sink back into the pillow with a groan.  
“When do you ever sleep? At night it's you obsession with graffiti, that keeps you running around the city and by day it's your vinyl collection. I can't keep up.” He complains.  
Merlin looks remorseful. “I’m sorry, love. I should have let you sleep.” He apologizes. “You can stay here if you want. Sleep in. I would be back in a few hours. Or I can leave you the key and you can go whenever you want?” He offers.  
But the prospection of being alone in the flat makes Arthur feel uncomfortable.  
“I would like to spend some time with you.“  
It nearly sounds like a question and it tugs at Merlins heartstrings.  
“Of course, darling.” He's quick to reply.  
“Could you…” Arthur begins, visibly embarrassed, “could you pass me my shirt please?”  
Merlin gives Arthur the shirt, purposeful looking away, so that Arthur can cover up his scars, without having him look at him.  
He wouldn't mind, he already has seen them, but he guesses, that the bright sunlight is too merciless for Arthur to feel comfortable.  
“Do you have a toothbrush I can use?”  
“Sure,” Merlin gets up, to go searching for his spare toothbrush. He really hopes, that he still has one.  
Triumphing he pulls it out of the last corner of his messy bathroom cabinet.  
Arthur who is watching him, casually leaning on the doorframe, smiles.  
The only thing organized in Merlins flat are his records, even his art supplies and cans are scattered all over the flat.  
While Arthur takes a shower and brushes his teeth, Merlin returns to his coffee. Finally. 

They get breakfast on the go and a fresh coffee for Arthur, who had complained that his was cold, the time he had finished washing up.  
Then they dive into the record shops.  
Arthur is a total stranger to this kind of scene, but Merlin is well known and greeted personally by the working staff.  
Arthur stands around and watches the serious cratediggers, only this species of people are in a record store at 10am on a sunny Saturday. And they all know each other, or at least, they all know Merlin.  
A few of them are looking a bit puzzled, when Merlin pulls him close and kisses him, but when Arthur nervously looks around, the few people, all men with the exception of one teenage girl in doc martens and pink dyed hair, are minding their own business.  
Merlin starts to look through the crates and Arthur doesn't know what to do.  
“You could help me looking. Anything from the U.K., anything from the 80s.” Merlin says, but Arthur helplessly shrugs his shoulders.  
“Ah well…, in this case, just look for covers you like and artists you know.”  
Arthur nods, that he can do.  
Slowly he goes through the crates, looking on the covers, trying to catch a name, that rings a bell. Madonna he knows. He shows it to Merlin.  
“Already have a very good pressing of that. But good choice, Arthur.”  
Arthur blushes at that praise, but he starts to dig more eagerly. He begins to understand, what Merlin loves about that, it’s the excitement of the hunt.  
In the third store, one cover suddenly catches his attention.  
It's a soft green and beige background, coarse like some black and white photography, in the front, slightly on the right, a long, lit, white candle. He pulls it out. It's beautiful in its softness, a tragic sadness, but at the same time a comforting silence, speaks from the image.  
Sonic youth; Daydream Nation. He calls Merlin over.  
Merlin appears by his side, already carrying a rather large stack of records under his arm.  
Merlins eyes sparkle.  
“Sonic youth? You’ll love them Arthur. Great Album, and its still missing in my collection.” He's all excited.  
“But it's 35 pounds.” Arthur says skeptically.  
“Depends on the condition.” Merlin explains, pulling the record carefully out of its sleeve.  
He turns it in several directions, looking closely for scratches in the black vinyl.  
“This is near mint condition, it's worth that much, or at least I'm not going to get it cheaper on the internet.” Merlin rambles on, more talking to himself than to Arthur.  
“Mint?”  
“Mint means excellent condition, no scratches, not warped, no dust on it. Never or only a few times played.” Merlin gives insight into record rating.  
“This one’s a few times played, but taken good care of, no scratches as far as I can see. The corner of the cover is a bit bend, but that's alright.”  
Arthur listens to everything that Merlin says and tries to memorize it. Merlin has to leave half of his pickings behind in favor of buying the Sonic youth record. He sets himself a limit of 50 pounds for buying records, otherwise he would be ruined sooner than later.  
They go home after that, with their limit exhausted like that, it would not make much sense to go on. 

For lunch they have sandwiches, kettle chips and lager as a chaser. They're munching on them, while laying on blankets and pillows, that Merlin has thrown to the floor, listening to Daydream Nation.  
Merlin was right, Arthur loves it.  
The music grips him and lets him dream about a life in the 80s, between rock music, drugs and cheap beer, where nobody gave a fuck about their future. He was born to late.  
When he voices that thought to Merlin, he smiles and tells him, that nearly everybody feels that way. 

They are hitting the bong, while listening to Eric’s trip, what soon turns out to be Arthur's favorite track, while Merlin prefers Total Trash.  
After the second time, they turned the first lp of the double record on the B side, they are fucking to their favorite songs, just a quickie, because 18 minutes aren't that long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized I made a logical mistake. Going to make some minor edits in chapter 5...it's just about the weekdays, so I think you don't have to reread it.


	8. Karma Police - Radiohead

Arthur tries not let his disappointment hurt, when he ends the phone call to his father. Uther wouldn't come to the fencing tournament in Manchester that weekend. He had too much to do, an important case, as always.  
At least Morgana and Merlin would be there.  
Arthur already is nervous, two and a half hours with his sister and his boyfriend in a car wouldn't be fun, if they didn't like each other. 

But when the day comes, it is clear pretty quickly, that Morgana and Merlin are getting along very well. It just needs several minutes and they are in a friendly banter.  
Arthur smiles, listening to them and falls asleep in the backseat of the car. 

The tournament works out well for Arthur and his team, they nearly win all of their duels and Arthur is clearly dominating every opponent easily. 

Merlin watches breathlessly.  
Arthur is specialized to fence with the so called épée, the largest and heaviest of the three weapons used. Translated it would mean sword and Merlin can imagine how Arthur would look as a knight; strong and proud. 

“Isn't he impressive?” Morgana whispers after Arthur has made a very skillful point.  
Merlin nods.  
“He's training since he was eight. He stumbled into a fencing club after school, and he was absolutely fascinated. He begged Uther to let him join.” She tells him and Merlin listens closely, because Arthur never talks about his father and Merlin really is curious.  
“Uther wanted him to play soccer, like everybody else, but Arthur was insistent. It was the only thing he stood up for against his Dad.”  
For a while they're watching quietly.  
“A year ago, he had had the chance to go to Olympia.” Morgana says “but it was either train for it or graduate and go to university.”  
“Why did he decide not to tryout for Olympia? Isn't that every sportsman’s dream?” Merlin asks.  
Morgana shrugs her shoulders. “I don't know. Well, Uther wasn't really supportive and Arthur's problem is, that he's afraid of failing. He doesn't believe in his abilities.” Morgana frowns.  
Merlin opens his mouth, to ask something else, but in this moment Arthur makes the final point, with one spectacular lunge, and the duel is over.  
Arthur pulls the white mesh mask off and wipes his sweaty face with his sleeve. He is breathing heavily and his blond hair is dark and spiked from sweat, but he turns to the cheering spectators and smiles broadly. His eyes find Merlin and his smile grows even wilder.  
He tucks his mask under his right arm and bows elegantly.  
Merlin knows, that this is for him, but all the other people around him are cheering and clapping their hands too. Arthur looks the happiest Merlin has ever seen him. 

A week has passed since, and Merlin and Arthur are on their way to a club, somewhere in the south of the city. When the tube spits them out and they emerge the underground, it's a rainy, unusually cold night. Arthur puts the collar of his jacket up and shivers slightly.  
They're walking down the street, hand in hand.  
Suddenly Merlin lets go of Arthur's hand and stops.  
Confused Arthur turns around and looks for the reason, why Merlin isn't coming along.  
On the side of the street there's a police car parked. Obviously empty, no officers in sight. Merlin looks up and down the street, then in one smooth motion he sets his backpack down and pulls out the can. Arthur hears the metallic click-clack of the little ball rolling around in it, as Merlin shakes it.  
“What are you doing?” He hisses.  
“Scout out for a moment.” Merlin whispers.  
“Don't…” Arthur starts to say, but it's already too late. A big Silver A sports on the drivers door, quickly followed by a C, A and at last a B. In several seconds Merlin is done and the whole car is covered in four big silvery letters.  
Pleased, he puts his can back and walks up to Arthur, who nervously is looking around.  
Merlin try's to take his hand again, but Arthur pulls it back.  
“Did you really had to do this?” He asks angrily.  
Merlin gazes at him confused, Arthur never said anything about the graffiti until now.  
“What's the mattar with you. Why does it suddenly bothers you.”  
“You just tagged a police car wit ACAB! Do you have any idea what they would have done if we were caught?” Arthur still is looking back nervously, but the whole street is dark and quiet.  
Merlin shrugs his shoulders. “Pfft, I don't care. They deserve it.” He says coldly.  
“Why? There just people doing their job.” Arthur walks ahead angrily and Merlin tries to keep up with him.  
“They don't do shit, Arthur. They are after us, for a bit of spray paint, while drug dealers and criminals are running around unhindered. Did you know, that they caught Kristian Holmes, a tagger, and he was jailed for 3 years, while others, that are convicted of child abuse are going to jail for 3 months.” He breaths in harshly, as Arthur abruptly stops to walk.  
“That's not fair, we aren't hurting anyone!” Merlin says.  
“That's not the point,” Arthur disagrees.  
“ The legal system is, what's unfair, not the police, they're only doing their job.” He repeats again.  
“Oh yeah, Mr. law student ? Isn't the police part of the legal system?” Merlin sneers.  
Arthur waves his hand in a tired gesture, he can't win this fight, and he doesn't even know why he's so pissed. His father doesn't need him to defend his honor, knowing him, he wouldn't even want to.  
Merlin comes around when he sees that Arthur is giving in.  
“It's just, in my experience, they don't help the people who would need their help. They have the wrong priorities.” Merlin says darkly, his eyes shadowed with something Arthur can't place.  
“What happened?” He asks gently, it's clear, that Merlin talks about something personal.  
“My Mum used to be with this guy, who would beat her up, time and time again. I still was a child, I couldn't help her. But whenever the police came around, because the neighbors had called them, they were doing nothing. They just left her with him. Well, sometimes they took him with them, but he would be back the next day.” Merlin stays silent a few moments, lost in dark memories. Arthur squeezes his hand, he doesn't know what to say.  
“Then, one day she tried to kill herself. Took to many pills. I found her.”  
Arthur can feels Merlin shiver next to him.  
“After that she went away, to a clinic and I was send here to live with Gaius, an old friend of my mother.”  
“Merlin, I’m so sorry.” Arthur says, fearing that his words are sounding flat and patronizing.  
But Merlin besides him nods and sighs.  
“It's over, she has a nice little house in the countryside and she's good now.” He says, “But you see, why I think the police are a bunch of useless assholes?”  
Arthur remains silent, there's nothing he can say, without Merlin hating him. 

They hear laughter and the pounding of loud music, before they walk around the corner.  
The rest of the crew is standing around, sharing cigarettes and booze and Merlin and Arthur are greeted like long missed friends.  
Both of them are trying to shake their dark thoughts, plastering smiles on their faces, putting the bottles with the too sweet alcohol to their mouths. 

Inconspicuously, Arthur follows Gwain into the dark corner between the stairs and the toilets.  
Arthur holds out some money and Gwain is reaching in his pockets, handing one of his little plastic bags to Arthur.  
“I’ve thrown in some candy for you to try out,” he says, showing Arthur a second bag with two little milky pink pills with the image of a cherry stamped on it.  
“What's that?” Arthur asks curiously. “Ecstasy, little happy pills.” Gwain says casually. “I thought you’d like it. It's good quality.”  
Arthur nods and pushes his pills deep into the pocket of his jeans.  
“Thanks mate!”  
Gwain smiles his smile, that makes all the girls fall for him.  
“You're welcome, prince.” He says, before both of them return to their group of friends on the dance floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, that it doesn't reflect my personal opinion of the police. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. A special thanks to the people who are commenting, it means so much to me. Thank you!!


	9. When I'm on pills - Anthony Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Self- Harm, Drug abuse

Arthur feels like shit. He throws his backpack into a corner and lets himself slide down the wall. Nobody but him to see this dramatic gesture.  
Since he was little, Uther always hated how he expressed himself. So he learned to keep his gestures to himself.  
Now people call him cold and arrogant, but that's still better than his father calling him drama queen.  
He forcefully tries to cry, maybe it would be cathartic and afterwards he would feel better, but he can't.  
He's not sad, more angry and desperate. It feels like running against walls. It's frustrating, and he knows that feeling oh so well.  
He gets up and punches the wall a few times. The space between his knuckles gets violet quickly, but the pain is gone after a minute. Not enough to distract him.  
The worst thing about feeling like this is, that he has no reason to feel this way.  
He's happy, Merlin and him are having a good time, he has finished all his exams and because of his little helpers, he even has a good feeling about them. Fencing is going great as well.  
He hates himself for feeling this way, empty, slowed down into an unmoving mass of self hate and anger.  
He needs something to take his mind off.  
He thinks about the little pink pills in his bedside table. He still has them both.  
“Little happy pills.” Gwain has called them.  
He takes them out and puts one of them on his tongue. It tastes slightly bitter. He has heard that Ecstasy often is laced with rat poison, but feeling like he does, he couldn't care less.  
He swallows it with water and then he waits.  
30 minutes later, he can feel his body heating up, happiness is floating his system. Suddenly he has the overwhelming urge to move.  
He takes a look in the mirror, his pupils are huge, black pools, nearly swallowing the blue of his eyes completely. He grins, he looks fucking hot. He could fall in love with his reflection. This feeling;-that's what love feels like.  
Whiteout thinking twice, he grabs his phone, headphones, wallet and keys. He wants to see Merlin. He wants to share how beautiful life is and how much he loves him.  
When he slips the headphones on, the music is forming a symbiosis with his body. He never has experienced music quite like this.  
Outside it's the twilight and he looks at everything in wonder, while he practically runs to Merlin.  
When Merlin opens his door, that Arthur threatens to brake down with his frenetic knocking, he looks very sleepy. Arthur forgot that he worked the whole night. Sometimes he stays with his disabled clients over night.  
But Arthur is too high, to feel bad for waking Merlin up.  
“Arthur? Has something happened?” Merlin is alarmed, but Arthur shakes his head and grins widely at him.  
“No, I just wanted to see you. And tell you how much I love you." He pulls the perplex Merlin close and whispers in his ear.  
“I want to make love to you, I love you.”  
They haven't used the L word yet and Merlin is absolutely confused about Arthur's behavior. He pulls his head back to look at Arthur.  
“Are you high, or what's the matter with you?” He asks, but when he sees Arthur's eyes he doesn't need an answer from him.  
“Of course you are fucking high.” He pushes Arthur away from him and walks back into the flat, leaving Arthur to follow and close the door.  
He waits in the middle of the room, his arms crossed in front of his chest.  
Arthur feels a bit like a naughty school boy, that is about to get scolded.  
But it doesn't bothers him much.  
“What did you take?” Merlin starts his interrogation.  
“E.” Arthur says happily, trying to kiss Merlin on the cheek, but Merlin turns his face away.  
“Let’s go out.” Arthur is figeding around. “Let’s go out to dance or to tag, or whatever. It's just beautiful outside, please Merlin.” Arthur tries to make puppy dog eyes.  
Merlin sighs, but gets dressed to go out.  
Arthur wraps his arms around Merlins torso from behind.  
“Oh I love you.” Arthur says excited.  
“That's only the drug talking.” Merlin says tiredly.  
“Noo.” Arthur is petulant like a child.  
Merlin throws him a bottle of water.  
“Drink this, or you get dehydrated easily.”  
He watches Arthur sputter the water all over him, his nervousness making his hands unsteady.  
“Where did you get them from?”  
Arthur shrugs his shoulders, he knows better than to tell Merlin that he buys prescription drugs from Gwain.  
“Some guy, gave them to me.” He tells him instead.  
Merlin shakes his head in disbelieve.  
“Your buying drugs from someone you don't know, taking them on your own on a weekdays night. Are you totally insane, or just stupid?!"  
His rant is like water on a ducks back to Arthur.  
“I wasn't feeling good, and I thought I try it.” He defends himself.  
“Arthur…” Merlin seems to be exasperated, “it's dangerous to take drugs when you are feeling down or depressed. This could easily become a bad trip, even more, if you are taking chemical drugs.” He explains.  
Arthur pouts, “I’m feeling fine Merlin. Never felt as happy as this, it's amazing!” He spreads his arms and spins around himself, through the room.  
“Let's get out of here, before you break something.” Merlin pushes Arthur out of the door.  
They are taking the tube, to get into the large park, in the center of the city, where they walk side by side. Arthur is talking the whole time. He changes the subject every minute, jumping from one illogical connection to the next, all of it making sense in his drugged up brain. Merlin hardly gets a word in. He hasn't brought his cans, because an overjoyed, drugged Arthur is suspicious enough.  
After two hours, the drug is wearing off and Arthur finally slows down.  
They take the underground back to their quarter, to Merlins flat. 

Merlin prepares the bong for Arthur, to ease his way out of the nervous Ecstasy high.  
Arthur is fidgeting around for ages and Merlin can't sleep either, until Arthur finally calms down and falls asleep, at 5 in the morning. 

When Arthur wakes up, he has only slept two hours. Merlin is peacefully snoring beside him.  
Arthur can feel it instantly, the heaviness in his body and his mind. All the euphoria of last night is gone, like a bright light switched out, leaving the darkness even darker behind.  
Carefully not to wake Merlin he gets up and collects his clothes from the floor. Tiptoeing over the creaking wooden floor into the bathroom.  
He drinks some water from the crane and brushes his teeth, but he doesn't feel better.  
He sits down, his back pressed to the cold tiles of the tub.  
He still feels hopeless, but now it's even worse, he already painfully misses the endorphins flooding his body.  
Another craving takes over, the craving for calmness and concentration. He digs through his wallet, he knows it has to be somewhere.  
He finds it, neatly tucked away into the cleanest pocket.  
His razor blade, still packed into the thin paper wrap.  
He searches for a place to make the marks. Just a bit under his armpit, he finds the perfect spot. Undamaged, smooth skin.  
He presses the razor down, drawing a thin line. The skin breaks easily, a nearly invisible split in the flesh, before blood wells up and starts to flow. He wipes it away with some toilet paper, so he can see where to place the second and the third cut.  
He's so concentrated to reduce the mess to a minimum, that he doesn't hear the light creaking of the floor boards. Merlin appears in the doorway, blinking sleepily.  
“There you are, I thought you were…” he begins but then he chokes in the middle of the sentence.  
“What are you doing?" He stares at Arthur's blood smeared hand, with whom he is trying to cover his injured side.  
Arthur stares back at him, his eyes an innocent blue again.  
With one large step Merlin is next to Arthur and wrests the razor out of his fingers, throwing it into the toilet.  
“You are not allowed to do that. Not in my home, not in my presence.” Merlin is simmering with rage.  
Arthur says nothing, only looks at him, with these damn sad eyes.  
Merlin wants to hit him, to shake some sense into him. "Can't you be left alone for a minute now?"  
He practically throws the first aid kit at Arthur.  
“Clean yourself up!” He demands, watching Arthur going to work, slowly, methodically. He puts the toilet lid down again, so he can sit on it. But not without looking at the razor first, sunken to the bottom of the toilet. He flushes and watches it disappear.  
“Where did you get this thing from, anyway? There are not mine.” Merlin asks.  
Arthur shakes his head.  
“It was mine.” He says with a raspy voice.  
“You are telling me, that you are carrying your razor blades around, so you can cut yourself anytime?” Merlin is shocked.  
“Arthur, this is not healthy. In fact, it's pretty disturbing.” He looks down at the small pile of antiseptic wipes next to Arthur. The bright pink of the fresh blood on them seems to glow.  
Arthur shrugs his shoulders and gets up to wash his hands.  
Watching him struggle to hold the gaze in place, to cover it with a big plaster, Merlin takes a heart and helps him.  
“I told you, the E would make you feel worse.” Merlin says, concentrating on his work.  
When everything is cleaned and covered, Merlin goes to wash his hands too.  
He can see Arthur watching him cautiously in the Mirror.  
“If this happens again, I'll throw you out. Understood? You can talk to me anytime and I will do my best to be there for you, but I won't have you self harming right under my nose." He says to Arthur's reflection in the mirror and sees him nod sheepishly.  
“I'm going to make us some breakfast. Some tea will make you feel better.” He tries to sound conciliatory and Arthur smiles shyly at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this might not be how the majority wants Charakters to deal with self harm, but to be honest I'm sick of all the 'kissing your scars' bullshit you often read in fanfiction. In my opinion this is romanticizing something that is not at all romantic and in no way pretty and loveable.  
> I'm not saying that people who self harm are not lovable and scars can be accepted, but they shouldn't be loved.  
> I would love to hear your opinion on that one too...


	10. (Won't Somebody) Take Me Out Tonight - Molly Nilsson

Because Arthur made a vague promise to Merlin not to take those pills again, he simply changes the scene.   
He's never been to the campus parties, because he never was too comfortable around his fellow students. But the law department is hosting a party and Elena from his study group had asked him, not without much fluttering of her eyelashes, if he would come. This would be the perfect opportunity to get this feeling back.   
In a dark room full of dancing people, he won't stick out. And Merlin won't be there, he’ll understand that Arthur is going alone. 

And that's why Elena’s small bottom is purposely pressed against his groin, while they are dancing together. He stares down at her blond hair. She looks sexy, in a tight green dress, make up done perfectly, although he bets, that she would just look as perfect in sweatpants, without anything smeared over her skin. She's nice and she's cute, and for a moment he wishes that he would feel something for her, something real, something than is not just provoked by the MDMA and other stuff he doesn't even want to know about, running through his body, producing a sense of emphasis. It would be so much easier, if he could bring her to the Friday night dinners. His father would be pleased and maybe he would even smile at him.   
He lets go of his negative thoughts, lets the wave of happiness and love carry him away, only the music exists now, only his body and the body of the girl in front of him. He lets his hands rest on her hips.   
They go to smoke outside, where there's already a crowd of people drinking shoots. Arthur knows most of them by sight. They are law students, sitting in the same lecture theaters as him.   
Talking is so easy now and they cheer him on, when he nibbles the lime slice out of Elena’s mouth, tasting her lipstick, sugar, smoke and alcohol.   
For a moment, the taste and shape of Merlins lips is flashing through his mind, but he refuses to remember it too clearly.

When he wakes up, it is in an unknown environment. He lies in a large bed, with a decorative iron frame and white, freshly smelling sheets. He has no idea where he is.   
The space next to him is empty, but he can see from the things lying around, that this is a woman's apartment. Shit.  
He sits up, and his head is pounding, his tongue feels heavy and dry in his mouth.   
Through the open door he can see further into the flat. It seems to have a large living room and somewhere further away, a kitchen. He can hear voices and the distinctive sound of a coffee maker. A figure appears in the door, he has to squint to see her clearly in the bright light coming from behind.   
It is Elena. She's wearing a large T-Shirt that probably is some relict of an ex boyfriend and nothing more than a panty. Her slim, tanned legs are naked.   
Arthur was right, she looks absolutely stunning without makeup, too.   
She smiles at him and passes him a glass of water and some aspirin.   
“I can imagine you need them.” She says friendly. Arthur tries to figure out from her words or her composure, if they had sex that night, but she leads nothing on.   
“Thanks.” He says, gobbling the water down.   
He still wears his Boxers and his T-shirt, but his trousers are piling on the floor.   
She bents over to pull on some tight skinny jeans.   
“So Elena…” he begins, his face heating up from embarrassment, “did we, ah, you know…?”  
She turns around to him and smiles lightly.   
“You don't remember?” She asks.   
Arthur shakes his head horrified.   
“Well, you were pretty strung –out last night.” She stops smiling.   
“But no, we didn’t fuck.”  
Arthur can't hold back a relived sigh.   
She smiles indulgently again. “When I got undressed, you nearly started to cry. Then you told me how beautiful I am, but that you are gay and have a boyfriend.” Her kind tone changes into a stricter one.  
“And you told me, you only went out with me, because you wanted to get high. That's not cool Pendragon, not cool!” She shakes her head, but Arthur can tell, that she's not really angry.   
Anyway he puts his hands in front of his face, he's too ashamed to look at her.

“I’m so sorry. How can I make up for this?” he asks her.  
“You could buy me breakfast,” she says. The refrigerator is empty, as usual.”  
He nods eagerly. “Sure. Just let me get dressed.” He picks up his jeans from the floor and pulls them on.  
“Let me get changed, real quick.” She says, but Arthur shakes his head.  
“You can stay like you are. You look perfect.”  
Elena smiles brightly at him.  
“That’s sounds like a cliché, but I always wanted to have a gay best friend.” She tells him, blushing lightly.  
Arthur laughs good-natured, “Don’t think you get fashion tips from me, I have no taste whatsoever. Mostly my sister picks out the clothes I should wear.”  
“Well your sister seems to have some taste.” Elena says, while doing up her hair into a messy bun. “I’m ready to go.”  
“I need to use the bathroom first.”  
“It should be free, my flat mates left a while ago.” 

Arthur brushes his teeth provisional with his finger. His headache is clearing up, and he also finds some antiperspirant, that probably belongs to one of Elena’s flat mates.

When they sit over some coffee and freshly made bagels, in one of these new hipster cafes, Arthur would never admit to like, he asks her if she will tell anyone what happened between them.  
She looks at him with a gentle smile. “Who should I tell? Our study group?”  
He shrugs his shoulders, embarrassed.  
“It’s your personal matter who you date and who not. I won’t say anything.” She promises him.  
When they say goodbye to each other, she kisses him on the cheek.  
“See you around,” she says and hesitating she adds: “And be careful with the drugs, they are going to ruin you, Arthur.”  
He nods. 

Because he feels so ashamed for nearly cheating on Merlin, the following weeks he stays away from any kind of drug.  
Merlin doesn’t question, why he won’t drink or smoke, he only smiles encouraging and mostly stays sober too.  
The Crew is planning something big. Bombing one of these ugly inner city project houses. There is a perfect space, but until now, there was no chance of access. Now, the building next to it gets a new roof and there is a scaffold, that will give them the opportunity to climb the roof top of the building they have eyes on for so long.  
Arthur and Merlin are spending some Sunday afternoons and some nights scouting out the surroundings and the possible security around that area. Apparently there is non.  
Arthur can imagine more romantic places to spent time together, than under the bridge by the dirty river, but Merlin always knows how to make the most of it, so he doesn’t complain. 

On a Wednesday night, Merlin and the crew take Arthur to the carriage siding, where he first met Merlin.  
They give him a spray can and show him how to hold it.  
His tagger name will be PAC, the Crew decided in a democratic vote, that Arthur has lost pitifully.  
His first try looks horrible. Noses of silver paint are running down, leaving a ugly, unclear letter. Frustrated he looks at it.  
“Don’t worry,” Merlin laughs, “That’s normal for the first time. You should have seen my first tags.” He reassures him.  
“Step back a little bit further and try to do it faster.” He tells him.  
“Busted!” suddenly says a nasal, arrogant voice.  
All of them are startled, Gwen actually jumps into the air.  
Merlin is the first one to regain his composure.  
“Mordred,” he whispers, eyes only slits, “What are you doing here.”  
“I saw you from above.” Mordred says with an accentuated boredom in his voice.  
“That’s not very low-key, standing around with seven people. And him.” He jerks his chin into Arthurs direction.  
“So you brought your new toy, Merlin?”  
Arthur clenches his free hand into a fist and grabs the can tighter, he has no idea what that little boy is talking about, but he’s nobody’s toy.  
Percy puts his big hand on his shoulder, “Relax,” he says, “Toy is what we call writers, that aren’t that good or like you, just started tagging.” He explains, but it doesn’t help much to calm Arthur down. He knew this was a bad idea.  
“Piss off, Mordred.” Leon interrupts the stare duel between Merlin and the younger boy. “We don’t want you here. When will you understand, that you never will be a part of the Camelot- Crew?”  
Mordred turns around, “You really prefer this bodger over me?” his voice is dripping with venom.  
“Fine, but this means war.” He says with the seriousness of a hurt teenager.  
Merlin laughs out loud, “Yeah, sure. Do what you have to do.” He says, leaving no doubt, that the threat is ridiculous.  
The boy turns around and runs away, followed by the laughter of the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, short chapters. This story will take ages, but it's all I can do for now.  
> Let me know if you like it, otherwise I'm also perfectly fine to write this story only for you, SlytherinnPridee !!  
> Thanks for reading!


	11. Metal & Dust - London Grammar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back.  
> Hope you enjoy the next chapter. I'm probably going to change the Titel, when I think of something more fitting.  
> Please leave kudos and comments if you like it.  
> Have a nice day!

Arthur looks down into Gwain outstretched hand and than back into the grinning face of his friend.  
“Come on Arthur, they are even better than the last ones. You liked the last ones, didn't you?” Gwain tilts his head, looking at Arthur like an adorable dachshund.  
Arthur nods, his gaze on the pills on Gwains palm again.  
This time they are pastel green, with a tiny pressed in elephant on it.  
“But Merlin..” Arthur begins but Gwain waves his worries aside.  
“He’ll get over it.” He tells him.  
“Come on, lets have some fun, you and me.”  
Arthur finally shrugs his shoulders and takes one of the pills and swallows it quickly with a swig of his beer, Gwain does the same.  
He winks conspiratorial and klicks his bottle with Arthur's, before they leave the disgusting toilet stall of the basement nightclub, returning to their friends, who are sitting around a round table in the corner.  
Arthur kisses Merlin on the cheek, when he sits down next to him. 

An hour later, Arthur and Gwain are grinning like Idiots, while Merlin angrily throws his arms in the air.  
“Are you serious? Remember what happened last time you took that shit?” Merlin is outraged.  
Arthur just looks at him, with a guilty expression, that reminds Merlin of a little boy, and he feels himself going soft, so he grits his teeth.  
“What happened last time?” Gwain asks curiously, resting his chin on Arthur's shoulder.  
“Non of you business!” Merlin snaps at him. “Am I right to assume this was your idea?” He asks Gwain.  
Gwain shrugs his shoulders. “Give us a break Merlin, we’re both adults. We can do what we want without your permission.” he shoots back.  
Merlin glares at him.  
“Fuck off, Gwain. I want to have a word in private with my boyfriend.”  
Merlin crosses his arms in front of his chest as he watches Gwain toddle off.  
“Arthur, you promised me you wouldn't take them again. The cuts you made last time aren't even properly healed yet.” Merlin says sadly and Arthur hangs his head in shame.  
“I'm sorry, I couldn't resist.” He says apologetically, looking down on his nervously figeding hands. His body wants to move, he can feel how he is drawn to the music, as if it was magnetic.  
Merlin sighs and pulls him over to the bar, where he orders water.  
“Drink this.” He tells Arthur, who drinks it down obediently.  
“I want you to dance with me, please?” Arthur makes puppy dog eyes, what usually works with Merlin, but this time he shakes his head.  
“You can dance with Gwain, or, like him, snatch yourself a pretty girl."  
Arthur blinks at Merlins harsh words. But then he shrugs his shoulders.  
“Ok,” he says, before he turns around and cleaves himself a way to the dance floor.  
Merlin returns to the table where the rest of his friends are sitting and stares absentmindedly into his pint.  
He only looks up, when he feels a hand touching his arm. It's Gwens and she looks at him concerned.  
“What's wrong Merlin?” She asks quietly, so the others can't hear her in the ongoing conversations all around.  
Merlin rubs his temples, he can feel a headache coming on.  
“Ah it's nothing Gwen.” He smiles at her. “Just Arthur, doing stupid things.”  
She frowns. “What did he do?”  
“He and Gwain took E and they're both totally high right now.”  
“Oh,” Gwen leans back, smiling slightly, “I bet that was Gwains idea.” She says.  
“Yeah,” Merlin runs his finger along the rim of his empty glass until it makes a high singing sound.  
“But Arthur... he didn't deal well with coming down from it last time.”  
“What happened?”she asks.  
It burns Merlin on the tip of his tongue, to tell his best friend that his boyfriend is self-harming, he doesn't know what to think, how to deal with it, but he can't tell her. It's Arthur's secret and he has no right to tell Gwen. So he only shrugs his shoulders.  
“He was a bit down, that's all.”  
“But that's normal with this stuff, isn't it?” Gwen asks. She and her brother were the only ones in their circle of friends, who didn't took the occasional drug and seldom overdid the drinking.  
“Yeah, it is. But…”  
“You worry too much.”Gwen says in her soft voice, squeezing Merlins hand. “I'm sure Arthur can handle himself. He's a responsible adult, isn't he?” She tries to ease Merlins worries.  
Merlin nods, although he's not so sure about that. Behind Arthur's big front, there is a small, insecure boy who wants nothing more than to be loved. And that gives him the overwhelming feeling, that he wants to protect him, from everything, even if it has to be from himself. But he doesn't tell Gwen that either.

Later, Merlin joins Arthur on the dance floor after all. Arthur smiles happily and kisses him.  
When they finally go home, they both are reasonably tired. They snuggle together in bed, Merlins always cold hands and feet warmed on Arthur's hot skin, they fall asleep within seconds.  
It's still dark outside, when they wake up to Arthur's phone ringing persistently into the early Sunday morning silence.  
Arthur sleepily looks after the callers ID and immediately picks up, when he sees that Morgana is calling him. He gets out of bed and wanders over to the window. Merlin watches him.  
“Morgana? What's wrong? What happened?”He knows that his sister wouldn't call at six in the morning if it wasn't important.  
On the other side of the line, he hears her cry.  
“What happened?”he asks again, softer this time.  
“Talk to me.”  
“Arthur?” She sobs, “can you come over please?”  
“Sure, but tell me what happened, are you alright? Are you hurt?”  
She has calmed down a bit.”No, I'm ok, but I need you here. Please come over. Alec, he...he is gone.”  
Arthur relaxes a bit. Alec was her boyfriend for the last two month. And even if being left sucks, it's not the end of the world.  
“I'm coming,”he promises her, while already getting dressed with his free hand. “20 minutes, 30 max.” He tells her. 

He kneels down on the bed, next to Merlin, who looks at him expectantly.  
“I have to go. My sisters boyfriend has left her apparently and she needs me.”he explains.  
“Thought something like this.” Merlin answered.  
“Are you alright?”  
Arthur nods, “just tired. See you later.” He leans in closer and kisses Merlin on his forehead.  
“See you.” Merlin lets his head sink back into the pillow, while Arthur calls himself a cab and brushes his teeth. When Arthur closes the frontdoor behind him, Merlin is asleep again. 

When he gets out of the cab, just in front of the house where Morgana has a flat on the first floor, the sun is coming up. He pays the driver and hurries inside through the already open door.  
He takes two steps at once. Morgana leans in the doorframe, waiting for him.  
Arthur's heart aches, when he sees how small and vulnerable she looks. Usually she's so strong.  
She lifts her head and smiles at him tentatively. He wraps his arms around her small waist and she buries her head into his chest. Gently, he rubs her back.  
He doesn't know how long they are standing there like that, but after a while Morgana releases his neck and pushes him away a bit.  
Her eyes are looking bloodshot and swollen from crying and when she turns into the light, Arthur suddenly sees a bruise, that is forming on her right cheek, just under her eye.  
“Morgana?” He asks, gripping her shoulder as she tries to turn away.  
“He hit you?” He tries to keep the anger he suddenly feels out of his voice.  
Morgana says nothing. Carefully he brushes her long hair back behind her ear and looks at it. Its slowly turning violet, just the size of a mans fist.  
“I'm going to kill him.” He presses out between his teeth, as Morgana’s tears start to flow again.  
“Don't Arthur. I've already kicked him out. I just need you to stay with me.” She pleads.  
Arthur is torn between wanting to just hold his sister in his arms and storming out of the flat, to teach this bastard a lesson. He never liked him anyway, but then again, he never liked any of his sisters boyfriends.  
He looks down at Morgana, sees how her hands are shaking and how her body shivers. He brushes away her tears with his thumb.  
“Lets make some tea and put some ice on that.” He says, pushing her gently in the direction of the kitchen.  
She sits down at the kitchen table, looking down on her hands.  
Arthur rummages through her freezer until he finds an unopened bag of frozen peas.  
He hands them to her and she lifts the bag to her cheek.  
“Thank you.” She says quietly.  
“Of course.” Arthur replies, while he fills the kettle with water.  
After that they don't talk much more. 

They take their tea into the living room, where they sit on the couch. That means Arthur sits on it, while Morgana lies on her side, curled up, her head in Arthur's lap.  
“Will you tell Uther?” He asks.  
Morgana shakes her head.  
“But you should tell someone, he can't get away with that.” Arthur tells her.  
“I don't want to have anything to do with him ever again, if I tell Uther or someone, this is going to be a big thing. So no, I don't want the police involved.” She says persistently.  
Arthur thinks that this is the wrong thing to do, but he says nothing anymore, he doesn't want to upset her more.  
While he runs his fingers through her hair, she falls asleep. He follows her into the land of dreams only a few minutes later. 

When he leaves her in the evening, she has calmed down and is her usually tough self again.The bruise is not as bad as Arthur thought it would be, but it still makes him angry, looking at it. 

He knows where he can find Alec, he once has picked him up with his sister.  
When Arthur knocks on his door, that stupid arsehole is so drunk, that he don't even ask who is behind the door.  
His eyes widen when he recognize Arthur. He takes a step back, into his flat. Arthur follows after him.  
“You know why I'm here, don't you?” Arthur says coldly.  
Alec shakes his head. “Mate, that bitch deserved it.” He slurs.  
Arthur grabs him by his collar and pulls him close.  
“First you hit her, and now you are calling her a bitch? Bad idea mate!”  
He aims for the liver and Alec bents over in pain. He tries to fight back, but he has no chance against Arthur.  
"Im calling the police." Alec shrikes, but it is no use. The second punch goes straight to his face and he lands on his arse, staring up to Arthur, holding a hand to his bloody nose.  
“You won't come near my sister ever again.” Arthur warns him and Alec shakes his head.  
“Ah, and if I were you, I wouldn't go to the police. Because if my father finds out, that you laid a finger on his beloved daughter, you would wish I had put you in a coma. Do you understand?” He asks and Alec nods again.  
Arthur turns around and leaves.

On the Bus ride to Uni the next morning, Merlin nods inquiringly to the scraped knuckles on Arthur's hand, wrapped around his cup of coffee.  
“What did you do there?” He asks.  
Arthur grins at him. “I had to be my sisters knight in shining armor,” he says.  
“But don't tell her that, she would call me a sexist for saying stuff like that.”  
Merlin laughs. “My lips are sealed.”  
He takes Arthur's free hand in his.


	12. Summertime Sadness- Lana Del Ray

Merlin sits by his drawing desk, sipping on his beer.  
Arthur is fast asleep on the mattress on the other side of the room. He passed out, drunk and stoned, hours ago.  
Merlin lights himself a cigarette, and whenever he puts it to his mouth his hands are shimmering silver in the light coming from the work light, he has built up in front of the large canvas on the fare end of the room.  
The windows are open, its summer in the city and the heat is resting between the brick walls of the buildings.  
Merlin is sure that in the morning he and Arthur will have countless Mosquito bites, but it's too hot to leave the windows closed and on top of that, the smell of the acrylic and spray paint makes him feel dizzy.  
His painting is finally done and he's very pleased with himself, he's tired, but too excited to go to sleep right now.  
Instead looks at his work. It's an abstract painting, deep blue in various tones covering the whole canvas, and over it hangs a slight, silvery cloud, like mist hanging over a lake, in the early hours of the morning.  
He's going to call it ‘the lady of the lake’, because he imagines a beautiful girl sinking through the depths, her hair adorned with flowers, like a Pre-Raphaelites Ophelia.  
Arthur mumbles something in his sleep and turns around, so that Merlin can see his face.  
They are together for nine months now and Merlin knows that Arthur sometimes talks in his sleep.  
Merlin looks at the bottles of beer and the bong littering the floor around the bed.  
He has gotten used to Arthur getting drunk, stoned or high and he doesn't say nothing anymore.  
In the beginning they still fought about it and Arthur always promised he would stop, but then he did it again and again and again, until Merlin realized, telling him to stop was no good. He only kept getting disappointed, so he told Arthur to be careful and let him go on with it.  
Sure he had been thinking about giving him an ultimatum, him or the drugs, but secretly he was afraid what Arthur would pick, if he had to choose.  
And after all it was not that bad; Arthur still was highly functioning and if he hadn't known, that Arthur was intoxicated nearly on a daily basis, he probably wouldn't even have noticed. He didn't know if that was a good or a bad sign.  
There hadn't happened something drastic again, what made it easier to convince himself, that everything was fairly normal.  
He could live like that, if only Arthur came over nearly everyday, getting drunk with him, getting high with him, fucking him, falling asleep in his bed.  
Merlin didn’t believe in destiny, but with Arthur he had the feeling that they were meant to be together. Merlin couldn't explain the feeling, he never had it before, but it was strong, like an ancient call, like an instinct.  
He wouldn't hesitate to admit, that he loved Arthur. He loved his kindness, his loyalty and his big heart. He loved the dreams Arthur told him, when he entered the melancholic state of drunkenness.  
Arthur was dreaming about helping people, becoming a lawyer in the social system, defending the people who were having nobody to defend them. Of course his father wanted him to specialize in tax and economics.  
He loved their quiet kind of happiness, shared meals and shared time, when they weren't talking. Arthur studying and Merlin drawing or painting in silence, but comforted by each other's presence.  
He loved lying on the floor listening to music, shaping Arthur's taste and knowledge.  
And of course Merlin loved the sex, Arthur's hands on his body, that expression in his eyes, that made Merlin feel as if he was the most beautiful creature in the world.  
He can't lose that.  
That's what Merlin thinks, while he sits and watches Arthur sleep, his fist pressed to his cheek, his naked body under the thin sheet. It's summer and it is hot. Merlins feels happy and sad, all at the same time.  
Merlin turns out the light, before he slips into bed next to Arthur.  
“Please don't leave me.” He whispers into Arthur's shoulder blade and he can feel tears prickle behind his eyes, but he doesn't allows himself to cry, not even in the dark.  
Arthur sighs in his sleep.

  

Merlin wakes up to the brutal sound of the coffeemaker and Arthur singing in the kitchen, very bad and very loud.  
Merlin opens his eyes reluctantly and blinks away the sleepiness.  
Arthur is standing in front of the painting, sipping his coffee thoughtfully. He only wears his boxers.  
“Do you like it?” Merlin asks and makes Arthur jump lightly.  
He turns around and smiles.  
“You're awake.” He states the obvious.  
“Well, it's hard to sleep, with all the noise you are making.” Merlin points out.  
“Sorry,” Arthur says, “Long night?”  
Merlin nods.  
“But it's done now, isn't it?” Arthur turns around to look at the painting again.  
“Yes, it is. What do you think?” Merlin holds his breath, waiting for Arthur's opinion.  
“It's beautiful!” Arthur sips from his coffee again. “It reminds me of something, but I can't quite place what.”  
It’s like when he thinks he can remember his mothers voice. Talking to him softly, when he still was inside her. Its impossible, he knows that, but still…  
Merlin smiles, he feels the same, it is like a long distant memory, like an outbleached photography.  
“Don't you have a lecture today?” He suddenly remembers, but Arthur shakes his head.  
“I got an e-mail, the prof is sick, no lecture today.” He says happily.  
Merlins smile widens, “If that's the case, why don't you come to bed again?” He pats the spot next to him seductively.  
Arthur laughs, “even if you are incredibly cute in the morning, with your disheveled hair,” he comes over and kisses Merlins neck, “and you sexy, sleepy smell, I won't kiss you until you brushed your teeth. Because morning breath is not sexy at all.”  
Merlin groans in protest, but finally he gets up and pats into the bathroom. 

They stay in bed until they get hungry and go out for some breakfast, because Arthur insists on treating Merlin to it for finishing the painting.  
Then they take a peek into the record stores near the diner.  
Merlin picks up some cheap jazz records, before they go home and to bed again.  
Arthur is blissed out in a postcoitus, stoned haze, when Merlin puts out the joint and takes a lazy look on his phone.  
It's 5.30 pm.  
“Shit, don't you have family dinner at 6 tonight?” He asks Arthur, who is half asleep by know.  
“What time is it?” He asks back.  
“It's already 5.30.” Merlin says.  
Suddenly Arthur is wide awake and cursing.  
In seconds he is up and dressed.  
“Fuck, Merlin, look at my eyes. You can see from a mile away that I'm stoned.”  
“I have some eye drops somewhere.” Merlin says, leaving to go rummageing through his bathroom cabinet.  
“There they are.” He mumbles to himself when he has found them.  
“Sit down and don't move!” He tells Arthur, before dripping the liquid into Arthur's bloodshot eyes.  
Arthur blinks and the drops are rolling down his cheeks like tears.  
“There you go. Just tell them you have a cold or allergies. They won't notice anything.” Merlin soothes Arthur.  
Arthur nods and gives Merlin a last kiss on the mouth, before he runs downstairs to catch the bus.

Arthur uses the allergy excuse to Uther and Morgana. They believe him without any questions. He listens to the conversation, as he keeps his head down and concentrates on the food on his plate.  
Lately he only has an appetite when he's stoned, he only eats normal when he's with Merlin. Back in the student hall, his refrigerator has been empty for weeks now.  
He already has lost weight and he needs to be careful not to lose to much, for fencing that might be not too bad, but he can feel himself loosing strength too, and that's not good.  
When they are done with eating, he puts his chin in his hand and listens to his sister going on and on about her job.  
He doesn't even notices that his eyes are falling shut and he's about to drift of, when his father calls his name.  
“Arthur? Arthur!”  
He jerks awake again. “What? What happened?” He asks confused.  
“You fell asleep on the table. Are you alright?” Uther asks and Arthur wonders if he can detect a tone of honest concern in his father voice.  
Morgana definitely looks concerned. She attempts to put her hand on Arthur's forehead, to feel his temperature, but before she can touch him, Arthur moves away.  
“I'm sorry. I'm fine, just a bit tired, I stayed up late last night. To study.” He lies.  
Uther nods. “Why don't you go upstairs? Your bed is still made.” He suggests.  
Arthur nods and after he kissed Morgana on the cheek, he bids goodnight to both of them, before he goes upstairs to his old room.  
He sends an message to Merlin, telling him, that he’ll spent the night at his fathers house, before he he pulls of his jeans and crawls under the familiar sheets.

When he wakes up the next morning, the house is empty. He checks for a note his father might has left him, but there's non.  
He pockets the 50 £ bill that sticks under the bowl where Uther puts his keys in and leaves the house, locking the door behind him. Maybe he will buy himself something to eat with the money, maybe not. Maybe he'll call Gwain later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not edited, I will come back to it later, so I hope there are no grave mistakes.  
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting.  
> Hope you enjoy !!!


	13. Cold Cold Cold - Cage The Elephant

Arthur can't sleep, it's too hot and his thoughts are too loud. For days now, his mind is on the warpath and peace is nowhere to be found.  
He really is sick of this constant rollercoaster. And no, he's not bipolar. In fact he's not been diagnosed at all, but most likely, it's only a minor depression what makes his life a living hell.  
That's what the woman at the psychotherapeutic counseling center of the university told him. Only a minor depression. He still remembers her eyes, passing over him, indifferent.  
He didn't wanted pity, he didn't even wanted sympathy, but he didn't wanted to be treated as if he has a cold, that is going to go away with hot soup and tea.  
It hurts. It's like a thorn, stuck in his flesh.  
The only thing he learned from her, was that depression could be periodic. He always thought that he wasn't depressed, because he still was functioning. He didn't stayed in bed all day, he still got things done, even if it was hard, he just did it.  
Since he was a teenager, he had felt that something was wrong with him, but only he knew. Sometimes he wishes that he could give up, just break down, let other people handle it. But then again he is afraid of that, it isn't that bad, is it? He can do it,- push through. Be normal.

He often wonders if he's just imagining things. Is the pain even real?  
And the therapist reaction didn't help him at all. He feels like he has no right to feel this way. It's not even bad enough to interest a shrink. Maybe he's just a drama queen, like his father always says. Maybe he really has to jump from that bridge, to proof himself and all the others that he really is not well. That he isn't just playing around, but that he really needs help.  
These thoughts run through his head, while he seeks comfort in his usual spot by the bridge.  
Now he can't go there without thinking about Merlin.  
But Merlin isn't here today and Arthur wonders if he would miss him. He knows that he would miss him. He's not so fare gone, to think that, if he committed suicide, he wouldn't inflict pain on people. The question is, which pain weights heavier, his pain or theirs? And when does he reach the point were he will think, that his pain is outweighing their pain? Maybe he has to ask himself how much he really loves the people in his life. Enough to stay alive?  
At least enough not to jump right now. 

Instead he calls his sister.  
Morgana’s voice is husky with sleep as she answers the call.  
“Arthur?” She asks.  
He doesn't bother with any greetings. “Can you pick me up?”  
Morgana immediately recognizes the tone of his voice. The tired emptiness, the lack of pronunciation. She knows it is bad.  
“Where are you?” He can hear the forced calmness.  
“Home.”  
“Stay there and don't do anything stupid, alright?” She orders. “I'm coming.”  
“Ok.” He says, before he ends the call.  
He doesn't bother to go inside his flat. He waits for her, sitting on the stairs outside the building.  
Only 15 minutes later, her little, old Peugeot pulls up in the parking space.  
Slowly he walks over to the car and gets in.  
He sees that his sister only has pulled jeans on, otherwise she's still wearing her nightdress.  
“I'm sorry.” Arthur says guiltily.  
“Don't be sorry. I want you to call me, if you feel this way.” Her voice is soft and soothing.  
“You are there for me, I’m there for you. Got it?”  
Arthur nods and lets his head rest against the window.

“Trouble with sleeping again?” Morgana asks, when they arrive in her flat.  
“Yes.” Arthur admits.  
“Want to try if you can sleep in my bed?” She asks and Arthur feels like a child again. He nods.  
They both crawl into Morgana's big bed and she puts an arm around his waist. Not even with Merlin, Arthur feels save like this. 

It's already early evening when he wakes up again.  
Morgana has left the curtains in place, so he could sleep.  
He already feels a bit better, having finally slept more than two hours.  
He pulls on his jeans again, unfortunately Morgana's clothes won't fit him, not even her widest joggers. He needs to take a shower.  
Barefoot he pats into the kitchen. Morgana is not alone, Morgause is there with her. Currently they are busy reading tarot cards.  
He crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans against the doorframe.  
“You know they would have burned you on the stake.” He says with a cocky smile.  
“Already feeling better?” Morgana teases back.  
“Hello Arthur.” Morgause says, turning the cards around.  
Since she's Morgana's best friend, there's a light rivalry for Morgana's attention between her and him.  
“Hello Morgause.” Arthur replies.  
“Want me to read the cards for you too?” She offers, but Arthur shakes his head.  
“I would rather take a shower. And you know that this nonsense, right?”  
“You are only afraid of what it would tell you.” Morgause stares at him and Arthur can feel his hairs standing up, it's like this women really is a witch.  
“In older times, they would have called you a witch." He mummers, before turning around.  
“Wait Arthur, I have a shirt that might fit you.” Morgana says and gets up.  
“Did this belong to Alec?” He eyes the shirt suspiciously.  
“No,” Morgana tilts her head, “if I remember right, it belonged to Pete.”  
Arthur takes it. “He was not a total disaster.” He grins and Morgana hits him playfully.  
“Not everyone is lucky enough to have such an adorable boyfriend like you.”  
Then it hits Arthur, he completely forgot about Merlin and that they were supposed to meet. He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his hoodie.  
There are 10 missed calls and countless messages, ranging from concerned to angry, to concerned again.  
He presses the call button under Merlins name.  
Merlin picks up after the first ring.  
“Arthur! Were the hell are you?” He nearly screams into the phone.  
“I called you and texted you. I even went to you flat, you weren't home.”  
“I'm with Morgana. I'm sorry Merlin.”  
“And you couldn't bother to let me know? I was worried Arthur!"  
“I'm sorry...” Arthur whispers.  
“I'm not feeling too good right now, Darling.” He tries to explain.  
Merlin sighs deeply. “That's your answer to everything Arthur. It's your fucking excuse for getting drunk, for standing me up, for isolating yourself. I can't relay on you anymore. Get a grip Arthur!”  
“Merlin, please…” Arthur starts, but the line is already dead.  
Arthur sits down on the edge of the bed.  
“Fuck.” He tells the wall. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He yells.

Morgana's recipe for getting Arthur on his feet again, is to eat lots of pizza and watch old friends episodes, they've always done that if one of them feels down and Arthur always finds comfort in their self invented rituals.


	14. Heart of Glass - Blondie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter and not a happy one, sorry...the next one is going to do something for the plot. Going to wrap that story up soon.  
> Hope you stick around.  
> Kuods and comments are very welcome!

“Lets go away.” Arthur says, while lazily drawing patterns on Merlins smooth skin.  
“Hmm? Where would you want to go?”  
“Don't know, the sea? Paris? Just away from here. I still got a month, before Uni starts again.”  
He turns his head and kisses Merlins left nipple, starting to move further down.  
“Just the two of us.”  
“Yes, yes lets do that.” Merlin is already breathing more heavily. He grips into Arthur's hair as he softly bites into Merlins thigh. 

Declaring their love with a lock on one of the hundred bridges of Paris and a key on the ground of the Seine are worth shit, when at home everything stays the same.  
They fight and they make up over and over again, and they both ask themselves if one day they will grow tired of it.

It's already midday when Arthur wakes up, his head feeling as if it is stuffed with cotton and his mouth and throat are incredible dry. He still feels a little drunk. He turns to his side and observes the half empty bottle of whiskey, that sits on his night desk. He fell asleep in his clothes again.  
He groans, before he pushes himself into a upright position and sets this feet down. He attempts to walk over to the bathroom, to fill himself a glass with water.  
But halfway through the room he is stopped by a sudden pain in his left foot. He lifts his foot, to see what has happened. Blood is already dripping down and he can make out, that there is a glass shard stuck in his foot.  
He curses. He has stepped into the shards of his bong, that Merlin smashed on the floor in frustration, while they were fighting, over a week ago.  
Arthur hasn't bothered to clean up the mess, the shards are spread over half the room and the dirty water has dried into dark spots on the floor. Arthur didn't bother with cleaning up because the whole place is a mess anyway.  
So he's navigating around the shards since then, and if he wasn't still drunk, he certainly wouldn't have stepped into them.  
He bought a new bong, though. Plastic this time.  
It doesn't stop bleeding and Arthur thinks that might be because the alcohol is making his blood thinner, the wound isn't that deep, at least that's what he thinks.  
He hops over to the chair and sits down to examine the damage. The problem is the piece of glass, he can't get it out by himself, just touching it lightly, intensifies the pain.  
He needs a doctor to get that out. And he needs someone with a car to get him there.  
He can't call his sister, Morgana would freak out, if she saw his mess.  
So he decides to call Percy, because he's the only one of the Camelot-Crew who owns a car. 

“Hello Prince.” Percy’s calm voice is coming through the speaker, “I haven't seen you in a while.”  
That's true and Arthur immediately is feeling bad for calling just because he needs something.  
“Yeah, I know and I’m sorry Perc, but I need to ask you to do me a favor.”  
“It's alright Arthur,” He says good-natured, “what can I do for you?”  
“Where are you at the moment?” Arthur asks.  
“Driving home from work. I'm mid town.”  
“Could you pick me up and drive me to the hospital?”  
“What? Why?” Suddenly Percy is not so calm anymore.  
“Stepped into glass and now there is a shard stuck in my feet and I'm fucking bleeding like pig.” Arthur explains, while he's eying his foot. The bleeding has slowed down a bit.  
“Oh my God! I'm coming Arthur. I don't know how long it will take.”  
“I'm not going to die, Percy. I just need someone to take the shard out.” Arthur tries to put Percy's mind at ease. 

Carefully he wraps some tea towels around his foot, so he won't get his blood all over Percy's car.  
One one foot he hops to the door to open it for Percy.  
Percy's so tall, that even Arthur is feeling small next to him.  
And Arthur is thankful for it, when Percy lays his arm around Arthur's neck and his other arm around his waist, to help him to hop down the stairs and climb into his car. He's also thankful, that Percy doesn't ask questions. 

There's not much going on in the in the A&E department and he only has to wait half an hour, until someone looks after his foot.  
“How did that happen?” The young doctor asks, as he carefully pulls out the shard with his tweezers, that look like some ancient instrument of torture. Arthur rolls his eyes and looks away.  
“Broke a glass, stepped on it.” He snaps.  
The doctor raises an eyebrow on his attitude, but he keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the procedure.  
It doesn't need any stitches, but still the can't train for at least two weeks.  
Arthur doesn't care about the pain, maybe he even welcomes it, but what he cares about is his training. It's the only thing in his life, he actually finds worth to do sober.  
At least he gets some good painkillers.

Percy drives him home again and he whistles through his teeth, when he sees the mess in Arthur's flat.  
Arthur sits down on his bed and in his misery even forgets to invite Percy to sit down too. He swallows two pills with a sip of whiskey.  
“I don't think you're supposed to do that. Mixing painkillers with alcohol.” Percy chides him softly; Arthur only shrugs his shoulders.  
“Want to play something?” He holds the controller of his PlayStation up. But Percy shakes his head,  
“I should be going.”  
“See you around. Thanks for your help Percy.” At least he remembers to thank him properly.  
“No problem prince, take care!” Percy can't help himself to eye the chaos around him and Arthur on his bed worriedly.  
“Are you sure you'll be alright?”  
“Yes, yes… I'm going to sleep a bit and then I'll be right as rain. They gave me some good painkillers.” Arthur grins and Percy thinks, that's exactly the point he's worried about, but he says nothing, just waves a goodbye and pulls the door shut behind him.  
Still standing in front of the door, he pulls out his phone to call Merlin.

When Arthur wakes up, he blinks into Merlins blue eyes. Merlin is squatting before his bed, obvious waiting for him to wake up.  
He does not smile and he looks so serious. Arthur can see the worry etched into Merlins features, leaving wrinkles like age would do.  
“Why don't you smile anymore? You used to smile at me with this huge smile. It's gone. I miss it.” He murmurs sleepily while touching the highest point on Merlins right cheekbone. Merlins skin feels cold and thin.  
The dark haired boy tries to muster a smile, but it's only a sad copy of his usual bright expression. He ruffles through Arthur's hair.  
“If you weren't such a cotpole and wouldn't do the stupidest things all the time, I wouldn't worry so much.” Merlin says softly. “How's your foot by the way?”  
“It's alright, Arthur says dismissively, “the only thing that pisses me off, is that I can't fence for at least two weeks.” He sighs.  
“I'm sorry Arthur.” Merlin casts his eyes down, looking at his hands.  
“What for?” Arthur is confused.  
“Well I broke the damn thing, didn't I?” Merlin explains.  
“Well yes, but I didn't bother to clean up, so it's my own fault I stepped on it.”  
He sits up and pulls Merlin down to the bed next to him. Heavily he rests his head on Merlins shoulder. They stay silent for a while and Arthur savors the feeling of Merlins long fingers running through his hair, absentmindedly.  
“Your flat is a cowp. When was the last time you cleaned in here?” Merlin asks, while looking around.  
There are empty pizza boxes, still the shards from the broken bong and dirty laundry all over the floor. There are even drops of Arthur's blood, already dried into dark brown patches. The only somewhat clean spot in all this mess is the bed, but even here, the sheets need to be changed asap.  
Arthur shrugs his shoulders,”Don't know, as long as I still get from the bed in the bathroom and back, I don't care.”  
“Yeah, looks like that’s no longer the case.” Merlin nods towards Arthur's bandaged foot.  
Merlin gets up and begins to pick up the clothes.  
“You don't have to do that Merlin. Other than you may think, l’m not actually a prince and you are not my servant.” Arthur protests, but Merlin ignores him.  
Arthur tries to get up, but falls back to the bed again, his face contorted with pain.  
“Merlin! Stop cleaning already. I can't stand on that foot yet. I don't want you to dance around me like a good little manservant. “ Arthur pleads exasperated, but Merlin only grins cheekily and bows into Arthur's direction.  
“Does your royal highness want to go out to eat something? Merlin mocks him.  
Arthur huffs and grabs his pillow to throw it in Merlins direction. Merlin sidesteps it easily.  
“That's not a very nice way to treat your loyal servant, my prince.” Merlins eyes are gleaming with mischief and Arthur is glad to see that smile again.  
“Come over here and I show you how to be a good little servant.” Arthur purrs, but Merlin only laughs at him.


	15. Follow the cops back home - Placebo

“That little bastard!” Merlin growls, when he sees another one of his tags crossed by Mordreds tagger name MODS. It keeps happening since the younger boy declared war to the Camelot- Crew and Merlin slowly is loosing his humor about it.  
“If he does the same with that piece we are planing, I really need to have a word with the kid.” Merlin lets his knuckles knack.  
Arthur smiles,”You wouldn't hurt him, you are one big softie, violence doesn't suit you”, he kisses Merlins temple.  
“No, guess not.” Merlin agrees.

They planed the big thing for Sunday night, as the streets are empty and nearly everybody is at home, sleeping.  
“Are you sober?” Merlin asks, looking at Arthur over his shoulder, while he puts the cans in his backpack.  
Arthur rolls his eyes. “Yes I am, stop asking.”  
“I'm just asking, because you have the most important job. Watching out.” Merlin says for the thousands time.  
Merlin wears black all over tonight, even his neckerchief is black.  
Arthur thinks that he looks like a burglar out of an old Alfred Hitchcock film. He on the other hand, is dressed normally in jeans and T shirt. 

They all meet at the corner with the kiosk, a few meters from the spot they have chosen. It's a long naked concrete wall, just recently cleaned from previous graffiti.  
Merlin has designed a huge curled up dragon, with golden glowing eyes. Everyone of the crew has a detail to work on. Merlin is doing the head, while Percy, Leon and Elyan are working on the body, Lance and Gwen are responsible for the tail and Gwain for the claws.  
The plan is to be done and gone within an hour.  
Arthur is no graffiti artist, he gave up after several tries, but because he still is a part of the Crew, he's on duty too.  
So he leans against the wall of the building a few meters away from where they are working and looks up and down the deserted street.  
For a long time nothing happens and Arthur is relaxing a bit.  
But after 40 minutes there is a car driving down the road quickly and even through it drives without the blue lamp, he can make out that it is a police car.  
His heart rate is speeding up, as he holds his fingers to his mouth and lets out a piercing whistle.  
He's about to run towards the crew, slowed down by his still injured foot, when he gets tackled form behind and falls to the pavement.  
At least he can see, that all seven members of the Crew are gone, even with the cans and all possible evidence.  
It's a young police women, who drags him upright now. She's talking, but he's to shocked to hear a word she's saying. He's stumbling into the direction she pushes him ungently, his hands in a death grip behind his back. They have parked the car around the corner. That's why Arthur didn't see them coming.  
She tells him to put the hands on the car, while she lightly kicks his foot to indicate him to spread his legs. An older cop is joining her, strolling back from a talk with the other two officers in the car, the one that Arthur saw.  
“The others are gone. But at least we got one of these vandals.” He says. He looks at Arthur and frowns.  
“Do I know you boy?” He eyes him suspiciously.  
“No Sir, I don't think so.” Arthur knows there's no use in being impolite and insult them, that would only make things worse.  
The woman, not much older than himself he would guess, has found his wallet and unfortunately the little bag with the pills Gwain has sneaked into his hand earlier.  
Triumphant she shakes the little bag in front of her colleagues face.  
“Look what we got here.” She says proudly.  
Then she pulls out his student ID card and reads:”Arthur Pandragon.” After that she makes a sound as if she's choking on air.  
The other officer whistles through his teeth. “I knew I knew you. I'm officer Baily, dont you remember me?” His voice is friendly and soft.  
Arthur shakes his head, he can't remember.  
“Well Arthur, you’ve grown up a lot since I last saw you. And not to the best, by the looks of it. You are in deep water here, my son.”  
“Is he really…” the girl asks wide eyed.  
“Uther Pandragon’s son, yes Marta he is.”  
“Oh shit.” Suddenly Marta isn't so proud of her catch anymore. Busting the Bosses son for vandalism with drugs in his pocket? That only means trouble.  
“Lets get in the car. Drive back to the station.” Baily urges, he wants to be done with this.  
Marta puts a hand on Arthur head to prevent him from knocking it on the doorframe, when he's forced to take a seat in the back of the car. 

The brightly lit station looks the same as it did over 15 years ago. Arthur remembers everything. How much time his sister and he had spent there, when they still were to little to be at home alone and Uther did not find a babysitter to watch them. Arthur remembers how he had fallen asleep under his fathers jacket on the bench, just were he sits now awaiting his fate.  
Uther’s lips are pressed into a thin line, when he leads Arthur in his small office, just big enough for the huge desk, a visitors chair and shelves full of files.  
“So they told me you’ve been arrested, where they have even called in case of vandalism. You obviously were on the lookout.” His fathers voice, that had been quiet in the beginning is raising rapidly and soon he will be screaming.  
Arthur stays silent, his arms are defiantly crossed over his chest.  
“And when they searched you, they found this.” Uther slams the little bag with the pills down in front of Arthur.  
“Drugs, Arthur, really?” Uther shakes his head. “I knew you were stupid and reckless. But this? This is a new low.” He hisses.  
“They are not mine.” Arthur opens his mouth for the first time since he walked into the station. “I'm looking after them for a friend.”  
“How stupid do you think I am?” Uther spits, “we can do a drug test here and now. Do you want that? Would it come back clean?” He asks, maybe a little bit hopefull.  
Arthur leans back in his chair again and after a pause he shakes his head.  
“Guessed so.” Uther says quietly. “Have you any idea what your escapades mean for me? For you? You can forget your law degree if you have a police record.” He started yelling again. “I thought you were growing up, but I obviously was wrong!”  
Arthur opens his mouth to protest, but he doesn't really know what to say, so he closes it again.  
“I want you to give me the names of your friends.” Uther leans back and watches his son getting pale.  
Arthur shakes his head.  
“No, I won't do that. Never!”  
Uther leans forward. “Maybe I should tell your trainer about these.” He snips the bag with his finger. “Doesn't your Uni has this strict anti drug policy?” His voice is dripping with venom.  
Arthur feels his blood run cold, he knows that this is not an empty threat.  
“Are you trying to blackmail me? It won't work. I won't tell you anything." He says petulant.  
Uther slams his fist down on the desk in front of him. Arthur winces involuntarily; even though his father hasn't hit him since he was a teenager. In fact, Uther has avoided touching him at all, since he came out.  
“It's about your future, son, don't you understand that? What would have happened if someone from another department had arrested you? By tomorrow you would have been on trial for vandalism and drug possession!”  
“Good thing my Daddy's a Detective then.” Arthur grins, because he knows it will drive his father crazy.  
Sure enough Uther’s eyes are sparkling with barley tamed anger.  
“Am I under arrest or can I go?” He asks.  
Uther sighs, “No, you are not under arrest, but don't think I let you walk away just like that. You are coming home with me.”  
Arthur stares at his father. “Are you serious? I'm an adult, you can't force me to come with you.” He protests.  
“As long as I pay your bills, you do what I say, Arthur!” Uthers tone does not leave space for any objections.  
And like that Arthur gives in, he might be an adult, but his fathers authority over him still is unbroken.  
Crestfallen he follows his father out of the station, into the car. The ride home is silent and awkward. He can feel his fathers anger and disappointment hanging in the air, suffocating him.  
Finally at home they are standing in the dark hallway, and Arthur wants nothing more than to escape into his room.  
Uther is opening his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He can't ask his son if he's alright, he can't tell him that he's worried. He never could. So he only squeezes Arthur's shoulder.  
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Good night.”  
Arthur is surprised by the sudden tenderness in his fathers voice, but maybe he's just tired.  
Up in his room he pulls out his phone and calls Merlin.  
“Arthur, where are you?” Is Merlins first question, when he picks up.  
“I'm at home. I mean at my fathers house.”  
“Have you been arrested? I heard your signal and we were running and I saw you following us, and then you were on the ground and there was the police. What happened?" He asks breathless.  
“Guess I wasn't fast enough, my foot you know…and I didn't noticed them coming from behind.”Arthur tells Merlin.  
“And what happens now?” Merlin asks concerned.  
“Nothing,” Arthur hopes at least.  
“They just let you go?” Merlin sounds surprised.  
Arthur has no idea how to explain this to Merlin, he always has avoided to tell him to much about his father. He knows that Merlin hates the police with a passion.  
“Listen Merlin, don't freak out, there's something I haven't told you about my father.” He begins, then he stops and listens to Merlins silence on the other side.  
“My Dad’s a Detective.” Now it is said and Arthur waits for a response.  
“Is there something else you need to tell me Arthur?” Merlin says, sounding incredibly tiered. “If there is, get it out and done with right now, because I don't know if I can't stand any more of your lies.”  
“I never lied to you about that.” Arthur is indignant about Merlins accusations.  
“No you haven't, you are right. Sorry.” Merlin apologizes ironically, “It’s more like you just forgot to mention it. If I had known…” he doesn't finish the sentence.  
“If you had know, then what, Merlin? You wouldn't have invited me to a party, you wouldn't have introduced me to your friends? You wouldn't be in a relationship with me?” Arthur tries to keep his voice from quivering, but he doesn't quite succeed.  
“Maybe.” Merlin answers coldly. “But maybe you should ask yourself what kind of relationship we are having if you keeping things like this from me.”  
“What does that mean, Merlin? What are you trying to say?” Arthur's heart beats fast and the hand, he holds the phone with, is trembling. “Are you breaking up with me?”  
“I don't know Arthur, I need time to think. I call you tomorrow, ok?” Arthur is scared by the airiness of Merlins voice, his presence already slipping out of his life.  
He still presses the phone to his ear, after Merlin ended the call. He doesn't even notices the tears that are running down his face. 

Merlin throws the phone on his bed and stares out of the window.  
Maybe he has been to harsh with Arthur, as he has nothing to do with his fathers job, but even if reason is telling him this, he can't help but to feel betrayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone already guessed it?  
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think...


	16. Stay positiv - The Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be fooled by the Titel, the song is incredibly depressive, like many of The Streets lyrics are, maybe that's why I love them so much and I love the accent, of course :)  
> If you don't know the Streets, check them out, they are so great.
> 
> However this chapter has a massive trigger warning for self harm and drug abuse. Be warned... well, on with it!
> 
> Oh and I enjoyed your comments so much, I would be honored if you keep sharing your opinion. It means a lot to me. Thank you!!

Arthur sits in the kitchen, over a cup of coffee, nursing his hangover. He only could sleep last night, after he downed a few glasses of his fathers expensive whiskey.  
Drinking it out of a fine crystal glass feels more sophisticated than out of an IKEA water glass, or straight from the bottle. But in the end it does the same. It burns, it warms him up and it helps him sleep. 

Obvious his father has taken the day off, as he sits down across from him, eyes like shards, piecing into him.  
He asks the same questions like last night. He asks them over and over again. Arthur's one word answers are turning into a nonverbal shake of his head, until he only sits there and stares at some point on the wall above Uther’s head.  
He feels sick. He's not listening anymore.  
“I need to go home.” He interrupts his father.  
Uther looks slightly confused. “You are home Arthur.”  
“I mean my flat.”  
“I already told you, that you'll stay here until this is sorted.”  
Arthur has to keep himself from grinning. Uther is still acting as if he's talking to a defiant teenager. But maybe that's all he is.  
“I have to at least get some of my clothes and other stuff, Dad.” Arthur reasons. He's too tired to fight against this ridiculous house detention, but he needs to get some things from his flat. Mainly things that will make his stay here a bit more bearable.  
Uther doesn't seem too pleased, but he's apprehending that Arthur needs some cloths and his toothbrush at least.  
“Morgana said she would come by later, she can drive you there.” Uther says.  
“I can go there alone, I don't need a babysitter.” Arthur protests angrily. Typical his father; to call Morgana to get him back on track.  
But his father is not in the mood to discuss things. “I don't trust you on your own Arthur, simply as that. You are going with your sister, or you're not going at all.” With that said, he strolls out of the kitchen, leaving Arthur to wallow in his misery.

Morgana arrives straight from work and Arthur doesn't even give her the chance to get out of the car.  
“You have to drive me to my flat.” He says instead of a greeting. “I have to pack some stuff and he won't let me go by myself.”  
“Well glad to be your personal taxi.” Morgana replies with a smile and starts the engine again.  
Half the way they drive in silence, while Morgana keeps glancing at Arthur.  
“How are you?” She finally asks.  
“Fine.”  
“Really?”  
“What do you think? I'm practically grounded. I thought this was over for good.” He complains.  
“I don't want to rub it in, but it's kind of you own fault.” Morgana says a tiny bit amused. “Since when do you do drugs anyway and how did you get into graffiti?”  
Arthur shrugs his shoulders, not in the mood to discuss this with his sister.  
He looks out of the window and Morgana drums her fingers lightly against the steering wheel.  
“Arthur,” she begins, hesitating, “Arthur, I don't want to lecture you, but I'm worried, love. I mean, I don't have anything to say against the occasional joint here and there, but this chemical shit? This could end really badly, you’ll never know what's in it!"  
She bites her lip. “And you are not the most stable person.”  
Arthur's head perks up and he stares at her. “What's that supposed to mean Morgana?”he asks sharply.  
“I don't know, it could affect you mental health. It can make you go schizo or something like that.”  
“Ah yes,” Arthur sneers, “I didn't know that you have a doctors degree, sis.”  
“I’m just concerned, Arthur, please don't start a fight.” She says, while pulling up in the parking lot. When she stops the car, she leans over to kiss him on the cheek.  
Arthur smiles at her. Then her phone goes off and she looks for it.  
“It's work.” She says , “Do you mind to wait a few minutes?”  
“I can do it alone. I just need a few clothes. It won't take long, 15 min. max.” He promises her and she nods, before answering the call.

Arthur breaths a sigh of relief when he gets out of the car alone.  
He sprints up to his flat. The first thing he goes to is his stash in the bedside table, with both hands he takes all what's in it and throws it in his sport bag. It's a smorgasbord of half empty pill blisters and containers with all sorts of painkillers, Ritalin and even some sleeping pills. And a bit of dope. He not only buys from Gwain anymore, as some of the medical students on campus, who's parents have their own surgery, are eager to raise a bit of money, by handing out drugs and prescriptions. You just have to ask the right people.

On top of what Arthur considers the essential things, he throws haphazardly some of his clothes, as well as his tooth and hairbrush. He even throws in his folder for the lectures, although Uni only starts in a week and he sincerely hopes, that he will be back here by then. Grabbing his phone charger and laptop from his desk, he's good to go. His fencing mask he carries under his arm.  
Throwing everything in the trunk, he only hopes to get past Uther without being searched. 

Back at home, Uther is nowhere to be seen and Arthur quickly brings the bag into his room and hides the stuff behind his row of Jules Verne books he liked to read when he was 12.  
He doesn't bother to unpack his other stuff, only pulls out his charger, because his phone is already dead. Impatiently he waits for it to have enough battery to be turned on again. Maybe Merlin has called or texted him. 

But there are no messages from Merlin, only a missed call from Martin, the one who's responsible for the fencing club at Uni.  
His heart beats faster and dread is pooling in his stomach. What reason would he have to call him, when he knows that Martin is currently in Scotland until the next semester starts again.  
His father must have carried out the threat of letting the fencing club know about the drugs.  
He doesn't bother to call Martin back only to get kicked out of the club. Instead he races down the stairs, fists clenched in anger. 

He passes by Morgana, who sits in the garden reading a book, and storms into his fathers study, without knocking.  
“What have you done?” Arthur yells at his father, who looks truly surprised. “Are you enjoying ruining my life?”  
“I have know idea what you are talking about, Arthur! Please calm down and then we can talk.” Uther has to force himself to stay calm.  
“Don't play innocent. I know that you have called Martin, or mailed him or whatever. Why else would he calm me?”  
Now Uther is truly confused, he hasn't called anybody named Martin, but he's getting aggravated too and so he leans over his desk, glaring at his son, who behaves like a complete madman.  
“I don't have any idea what you are talking about, and if you can't pull yourself together and talk to me like an adult, I have to treat you like the teenager that you seem to be and send you to your room.” He spits.  
Arthur stares at him fore a moment, before he turns tail and walks out of the study, not without slamming the door behind him.  
Tentatively Morgana opens the door to Uther study, seeing Uther sitting there, with his head resting heavily in his hands.  
“What was that all about?” She wants to know.  
Uther shakes his head. “If I only knew.” With one hand he's brushing over his face like trying to brush away his thoughts.  
“I don't know what's going on with him. I'm worried.” He admits, looking up to Morgana like she has the solution. Well she usually has some advice or at least some objections on how he's dealing with his son. But even Morgana seems to be at a loss this time.  
“Should I go and try to talk to him?” She offers, but Uther again shakes his head.  
“Maybe he needs some space. Let him cool down. I'm going to talk to him later.” 

Arthur is back in his room and he's still raging. He's pacing back and fourth, banging his limbs on the furniture with purpose. Slowly the anger fades away, leaving some feeling of helplessness and shame. He knows that he's acting childish, but he doesn't know what else to do.  
Leaving would be the best. Try to get by without the money. Work as a waiter or find a job as an construction worker. But he's a coward. He always hated the question “Where do you see yourself in 5 years?” Because he never really had a precise image; somehow successful, somehow making a living, somehow having a family, living in a house of his own. Now the picture is clearer and it's not a pretty one. 

He tries to call Merlin, who's name he has changed to ME, in chase his father is scooping through his phone. But Merlin doesn't pick up, doesn't write back.  
Arthur feels like his life is spinning out of control, for months it was heading into that direction and he chose to ignore it, but all of a sudden everything comes crushing down. 

Arthur deals with it the only way he knows; like a child trying to choose it’s favorite candy, Arthur has to choose from his stash. Which drug will soothe him? What will numb him effectively?  
He decides to go with the codeine painkillers, because if he only takes enough, then it will no longer hurt, he will feel warm and floating.  
He doesn't bother to drink the whiskey out of a glass anymore, fuck sophisticated, he will end up in the gutter anyway, just like his father always predicted. 

He swallows two, he swallows three and then a forth pill, chasing it down with alcohol. He knows he should wait until the pills kicks in, he knows he's working his way into a overdose, but he doesn't care.  
Everything is too much but not enough. He doesn't want to feel, but at the same time he needs to feel more. More pain, more hate, more rage, more brutalism. Everything seems to be drifting off into vacuity and something in him is fighting against that.  
He already feels a little bit lightheaded, when he staggers over to the window of his room, overviewing the small backyard garden. He pauses for a moment looking down on it. Looking at the weathered, wooden swing, that hangs in the only tree that grows on the property. Morgana had loved it, sitting there to think, well into her teenage years. Maybe that's why Uther had left it there, simple nostalgia. 

Then he sits down on his desk, where he used to do his homework and reaches in the drawer. On the very back there's a pencil case, that contains a box cutter. It's there since Uther cleared the bathroom of all sharp things, when he found out about Arthur's cutting.  
Arthur always preferred a razor blade, because it left a cleaner cut. But he hasn't bothered to replace the blade Merlin threw away and so he has no choice than to use the box cutter. Of course he could decide to not cut at all, but with the way he's feeling right now? Not really an option. And why the hell shouldn’t he anyway. It's not like anyone would care. At least, that's what his drugged up mind is telling him.  
And so he gets back to the spot, where he left the pills and the booze, sitting down on the floor, his back leaned on the body of the bed. Again he swallows a pill although he can feel the effect of the others already in his system. He feels light and floating, a little bit dizzy and a little bit nauseous.  
He never cut his arms before, but now, he couldn't care less. The pain is ringing through his body like the ringing of a distant telephone. He feels it, but not half as sharp as it should be. He sees the blood oozing out of the wounds he has made. This time without any precision, it's more stabbing himself than cutting. He doesn't know if he finds it fascinating or disgusting. Thinking gets harder anyway. Breathing does too, it feels like there's something heavy sitting on his chest.  
He closes his eyes, while he keeps drinking, spilling some of the alcohol on his clothes. He just loves the spicy smell of whiskey. He's waiting for the nausea to pass, ignoring the knocking on his door. 

Suddenly he hears his sister scream, opening his eyes, to see a blurry vision of her kneeling next to him. He wants to shush her, there's no need to scream. But his lips are paralyzed and he can't talk. He blinks and she's gone. He blinks again and there's his father, shaking him. Is he asking questions? The sounds are blurring together so he can't tell. 

Morgana is wrapping something around his arm and Uther is pulling him up, forcing him to stand. It's too strenuous. All he wants to do is sleep; why don't they let him sleep? Instead they are yelling at him. He thinks that Morgana is crying. He doesn't want her to cry.  
A new wave of nausea hits him and he doubles over and vomits on the floor. Embarrassment stirs up somewhere deep down, but only for a second because he's on the verge of blacking out. 

His father is ushering him forward and somehow he's stumbling down the stairs and finally is shoved into the car, realizing through his haze that they are driving somewhere and wonders where they are going.


	17. Melody X - Bonaparte

When Arthur wakes up, he lies in a hospital bed, with white sheets that are uncomfortable stiff and scratchy and a thin blanket on top.  
He's freezing. Other than that he feels quite alright. No headache and no nausea. An IV needle stuck in his right arm, slowly dripping a clear liquid into his blood circulation. Most likely it's a simple saline solution.  
His other arm is bandaged, he thinks he remembers it being stitched up last night, but it's all kind of blurry, so he's not sure.  
He's awake for 5 minutes maybe, when a nurse walks into the room, her white rubber shoes are making a faint squeaking sound.  
She smiles at him brightly, she's a cute little redhead and her smile reminds him of Merlin, so he smiles back.  
“You are awake.” She says, before she introduces herself. “I'm Laura.”  
“Arthur.” Arthur says.  
“I know, got your files here.” She shows him a clipboard. “How are you feeling?”  
“Better than I thought I would.” Arthur admits.  
She nods seriously. “And your arm? How does it feel?”  
Arthur shrugs his shoulders. “It hurts and burns a bit, but nothing I can't handle.” Her casualty making it easy to talk about it.  
“Good.” She smiles softly to ease out what she says next.  
“The doctors are a bit averse on giving you any painkillers.”  
“Thought as much.” He smiles at her a bit, to show her that he's alright with that.  
“Your Dad and your Sister are waiting outside. There here since you got this room. Can I let them in?”  
He wishes he wouldn't have to talk to them, but he knows that he has to eventually, so better get it over with fast.  
He makes a face, but he nods.  
“The doctor will come by later. And someone from the mental health service will have to talk to you too.” She says, while fluffing up the pillow behind his back, so he can sit up.  
Arthur groans. “ Do they really have to come? I'm fine now.”  
She shoots him a look that expresses sympathy and that she doesn't believe a word he's saying, at the same time. “Hospital policy.” She explains. “Maybe you could avail yourself a opportunity, Arthur and talk to someone. Just try it.” Her smile is gone and she looks a little bit sad.  
So Arthur quickly nods his head, somehow he doesn't want to disappoint her.  
“Good.” She says, before she leaves the room and lets Uther and Morgana in.  
Morgana looks absolutely devastated, she's even paler than usual, her long dark hair looks dirty and her green eyes a glassy from crying. Without saying a word, she wraps her arms around Arthur and starts crying again. Arthur can't do anything, then let her hug him. He tries to pat her back, but his one arm is immobile with the needle stuck in it and the other one is too sore to move.  
So the only thing he's left to do is to murmur soothingly to her.  
Finally she lets go again, but she still holds his shoulders, looking into his eyes, as if she's searching for an answer.  
“I was so scared, Arthur, how could you do that? How could you?”  
He wants to look away, but he can't.  
“I'm sorry Morgana, Im so so sorry.” He whispers.  
And he is, he hasn't planed to end up here, and he definitely didn't want his sister to see him like that, never.  
“So you didn't do it on purpose?” Morgana bites her lip. “You didn't tried to… kill yourself?” Arthur is thrown off his guard by the question.  
Vigorously he shakes his head. “No of course not… I wouldn't… I haven't.” He stutters out.  
If he would have wanted to topp himself, he would have chosen a more effective method. Not that he's going to tell her that.  
“I didn't try to kill myself. I swear.” He tells them both.  
“Morgana, darling, can you get me a cup of coffee?” Uther suddenly asks out of the background.  
Morgana reluctantly gets up from Arthur's bed where she was sitting. Unsure if she should leave father and son alone. Doubtful she looks to Arthur for conformation to be left alone with Uther. Arthur slightly nods his head. She shoots Uther one last warning gaze, before she leaves the room.  
Uther now comes closer, standing on the foot of the bed, looking at Arthur. His face looks even harder than usual, lips are forming a thin line.  
He's wearing one of this sweatshirts that tourists are buying and Arthur wonders about that. It looks so foreign on his father.  
“Got blood on the other one.” Uther says, guessing the reason for Arthur's puzzled expression.  
He crosses his hands behind his back.  
Arthur looks down on his lap, shame flooding his whole body, making his cheeks burn.  
“I'm sorry,” he breathes out.  
“It's just a shirt Arthur." Uther dismisses Arthur's apology.  
"But please, explain to me, why you would do something like that?” Uther presses.  
Arthur shrugs his shoulders. “Don't know.”  
“Please, at least tell me you had a reason to do that to yourself, son.” He's fixating him with his eyes and Arthur squirms uncomfortable under his fathers gaze.  
Arthur has no idea how to explain this, without sounding ridiculously over dramatic.  
“It's just… I'm feeling like I'm loosing control over my life and nothing turns out how it's supposed to be. It doesn't work out.” He says.  
Uther frowns. “What doesn't work out? Your studies?”  
Arthur sighs, of course that's what his father would be concerned about.  
“Yeah, they're not working out too.” He admits. “But there's other stuff as well. My boyfriend..., I think he has left me and then you were building up pressure and then you told the fencing club about the drugs and now they’ll kick me out and then I will have nothing anymore. And I just didn't know what to do, how to deal with it.” Arthur is breathing heavily after this embarrassing outbreak.  
“Arthur, I haven't told anyone anything about you, let alone your fencing club.” Uther tells him.  
“You haven't?” Arthur is confused, “but why did Martin call me then?”  
“I don't know.” Uther sighs, “ Did you call back and asked what he wanted?”  
Arthur shakes his head.  
“So all this, because you thought that you were kicked out of your fencing club?” Uther asks in disbelief.  
“Not just because of that, I told you.” Again his father is not listening and that makes him angry.  
“And because your boyfriend broke up with you. I heard you Arthur. But you can't have a mental breakdown every time things aren't going your way. That's life, Arthur, it's a struggle. You have to fight.”  
Arthur thinks that his father has no idea how much he's struggling and how hard he is fighting. But every word, trying to make him understand would be a lost word.  
“I thought you were done with hurting yourself,” Uther continues, “I had hoped we were through with it.” Uther shakes his head.  
Making it sound so easy, angers Arthur. “You always said this was just a phase, well guess what; it’s not. Just like my sexuality, it's not a phase either. Sorry to disappoint you Dad!”  
Frustrated, Uther runs a hand over his face. “There's a difference, Arthur. I admit, that I haven't been the most supportive when you came out to me. But I have worked on that. I know that it's not a choice and I’ve come to terms with it. But this self-destructive behavior of yours, this is a choice and I'm not accepting it, because it is dangerous. You could have died last night, on purpose or not, you are lucky that your sister found you when she did. This time you needed stitches and the scars will be there forever.”  
“They are not the only ones.” Arthur doesn't really care, what are a few scars more to his collection?  
“And what about the drugs and the Alcohol?” Uther asks.  
“That's just for fun.”Arthur lies.  
“It sure doesn't look like fun to me, my boy. Look at yourself. This looks like pain and suffering.” Uther voice has softened and Arthur is willing himself not to cry, because his father is right about that.  
He never really was looking for fun, only for something to numb the pain.  
But before Arthur can admit that and ask his father what he should do, Morgana is back with the coffee and hands a cup to Uther. The one moment were Arthur thought he might be able to ask for help is gone again.  
Morgana and Uther are staying until the Doctor arrives. He tells Arthur, that even though it's not as bad as it looked like in the beginning, he has to stay in the hospital at least one more day, maybe more. They need to make sure, that he's mentally stable enough to be sent home and they need an evaluation of his mental health from a psychiatrist. But unfortunately no one is available before afternoon the next day. Arthur is incredibly frustrated when he hears that.  
Morgana promises him to check his phone for messages or calls from Merlin and to bring him some clothes the next day.  
Then they are gone and Arthur stares at the ceiling, alone with his thoughts, it’s a true nightmare.

Morgana smiles contently at how easy it is to get access to her brothers phone. The code of course is the date of his mothers birthday. But when she sees the picture he's using as his background she nearly cries again. It's a photography from the summer they had worked at a medieval festival, touring through the whole U.K. It shows them both in historic costumes, Arthur in a light amor and herself in a dark blue and purple dress with a long cloak made of red velvet on top of it. It's her favorite picture of them and obvious it's Arthur's too.  
She stares at it for a while, until the screen gets dark again and she has to unlock the phone a second time.  
Then she calls ME, waiting for Merlin to pick up.  
The phone is ringing, but nobody picks up. She decides to try later again. First she has to clean up the room.  
She tries to call Merlin again and again.  
Merlin rolls his eyes when he sees Arthur's name flash over the screen for the second time in the last 30 minutes.  
Why doesn't he get the hint? He doesn't want to talk to him. Not right now. He still needs some time to get his head around things. Pressuring him like that, Arthur doesn't do himself any favors.  
Merlin never questioned Arthur's loyalty until now and even with all the fights they had about booze and gear, he always trusted Arthur. But now his trust in him is shattered and Merlin is not sure what is left without it.  
But he picks up anyway. Even though it still hurts, he already misses Arthur.

“What do you want Arthur? I told you I would need some time…” he begins but is interrupted by a woman's voice.  
“Merlin?” She sounds forlorn.  
“Morgana?” Merlin asks back and suddenly fear creeps up in him. Why is she calling him? Why is she calling him from Arthur's phone?  
“There's been an accident.” She says and his heart is speeding up.  
“What? What happened.”  
“Arthur is in hospital.” It drives him crazy to wait for her to say more.  
“He's going to be alright, but I thought you wanted to know. He asked for you.” She continues.  
“What happened?” He asks again. There's a silence on the other side that scares him.  
“He overdosed on painkillers.” She finally says.  
It's not like he hasn't seen that one coming, but he's horrified anyways.  
“Can I visit him?”  
“Sure. He's not in a good place right now, Merlin. He needs you.”  
Merlin nods, not realizing that she can't see him.  
“I’ll be there!” He promises.  
She gives him the informations what hospital and room number Arthur's in and the visiting hours. 

When he ends the call he stares at his shaking hands, holding on to his phone. The tube is crowded with people, but Merlin never felt so utterly alone in his whole life. If he likes it or not, Arthur is so deep under his skin, that he can't just walk away.  
He promptly misses his station and decides to just sit there, till the end of the line.  
The whole night he takes the underground from one side of the city to the other, choosing the ones with the longest lines. He can't go home when his thoughts are so occupied with Arthur, and somehow watching the people getting in and out and the steady pace of the tube is calming his nerves.  
He only goes home to change his clothes, before he's on his way again, this time with a destination, though.

He's two hours entirely to early for visiting a patient and they won't let him in, so he's anxiously waiting in the spacious lobby. 

Finally it's nearly 9 am and he sees Morgana walk into the lobby, followed by a grim looking man, who must be Arthur's father.  
Morgana's tiered face lights up when she sees Merlin standing there.  
They hug each other like long lost friends, seeking comfort in their shared concern.  
“I'm so glad you are here.” Morgana says releasing Merlin again.  
Merlin only nods. He can feel Uthers eyes on him.  
He holds a hand out for Arthur's father to shake, refusing to be intimidated by the mere presence of this man.  
“I'm M…” he begins, remembering in the last seconds before his name is leaving his lips, that it is probably not the most intelligent thing to tell a detective his writer name. “Michael.” He finishes. His real name feeling so alien to him.  
“I'm Arthur's boyfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Thanks to the readers who are commenting. It's really motivating!! Thank you!


	18. Circles - Kate Tempest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer wait, somehow this chapter needed more time to get written, I don't know why and I don't know if it is any good. I wanted to get it out already, so it is barely edited, I'm coming back to it... 
> 
> For the Titel; if you don't know Kate Tempest yet, check her out! She's my favorite british artist right now! That woman is pure poetry...
> 
> Little side note: drunk people shouldn't have access to smartphones 
> 
> Well, enjoy...

Uther takes Merlins offered hand and shakes it, a friendly gesture, while his grayish green eyes are wandering over Merlin with so much suspicion, that Merlin has to suppress a shiver.  
Awkwardly Merlin follows them out of the lobby, while Morgana leads the way. 

Arthur is awake since six in the morning, because since then, the eerie quietness of the night has turned into the rattling of breakfast trays and the chattering of the nurses, running up and down the corridors.  
They've been in his room twice, to measure his blood pressure and to get a blood sample from him. Non of the nurses was Laura and Arthur despises their faked cheerfulness.  
Breakfast is neither good nor bad and he eats it mechanically.  
Now he's trying to occupy himself with watching tv, but it doesn’t really work. He's stuck between being bored and nervous, he just wants to leave. So he actually thinks about running. Fuck the consequences, grab his things and run. Trouble is, he hasn't got anything, no shirt, no wallet, no phone and no place to go.

“Can I talk to him alone? Just for a minute?” Merlin asks, standing in front of Arthurs room.  
“Sure love.” Morgana says softly. Uther shrugs his shoulders. Only the light twitching under his left eye tells Merlin, that Arthur's father is not as indifferent about his presence, as he pretends to be.  
Merlin knocks shortly, before he slips through the door.  
And suddenly, he's face to face with Arthur.  
What do you say to your boyfriend, lying in a hospital bed after an overdose?  
-Nice to see you Darling, glad that you are still alive?, or, -I love you?,- I hate you?  
Merlin decides to go for: “You Idiot. You stupid, dumb Idiot.” His words may sound harsh, but his voice is breaking, betraying his emotions.  
Arthur holds his gaze, his cheeks are burning with shame and he wants to look away, away from these intense blue eyes, but he doesn't, he needs Merlin to know that he's serious, when he says that he's sorry.  
“I'm sorry.” Merlin says first and Arthur is irritated; what is Merlin sorry for?  
Merlin inches forward, until he stands next to Arthur and extends his hand to take Arthur's hand, that rests on top of the blanket.  
“What are you sorry for?” Arthur frowns.  
Merlin sits down on the chair next to the bed.  
“I’ve seen it coming, or at least heading in that direction and I didn't do nothing.” Carefully he strokes Arthur's fingers.  
“It's not your fault Merlin. It was just an accident. It won't happen again.” Arthur promises.  
That's not what Merlin wants to hear; Arthur is playing it down again, like 100 times before.  
He looks at Arthur in his hospital bed, looking pale and worn out, one arm bandaged, and he doesn't even asks about it, because he just knows and he wonders how Arthur can't see it. Or if he doesn't want to see it, that this is where he has to decide, either to turn his life around or to go on like this and loose everything.  
“Arthur, please…” he begins, but he stops when he sees Arthur's face. He has that closed off expression in his eyes, not willing to discuss anything.  
Merlin sighs, “Your father and sister are waiting outside. I'm gonna let them in, yeah?”  
Arthur nods.  
“I told your Dad my name is Michael.”  
Merlin informs Arthur, who looks at him confused, until he understands and has to laugh so hard, that it turns into a coughing fit, that shakes his whole body.  
“Seriously?” He asks, gasping for air and Merlin makes a face, like he is chewing something disgusting. 

Uther strolls into the room, placing the bag Morgana has packed for her brother, on the small table in the corner.  
Merlin feels how the mood in the room immediately changes. It almost feels like the temperature is dropping.  
“How are you son?” Uther asks and Arthur shrugs his shoulders.  
“I'm fine.” He says.  
In that moment, they seem incredibly alike to Merlin. Both cold and closed off and Merlin wonders, if this icy father son relationship is the reason, why Arthur doesn't talk about negative feelings. Why he's seeking comfort in narcotic oblivion or why he's more trusting into the sharp bite of the razor blade to take away the pain, than in talking to a friend. 

“We have to talk about a few things,” Uther states matter-of-factly, “Maybe your friend should wait outside?” He suggest, without looking at Merlin.  
Arthur shakes his head vehemently. “No, Me… my boyfriend can stay.”  
“It's up to you.” Uther sounds bored, but Merlin is not sure if he really doesn't care. This is turning into a power struggle, where Uther seems to have the upper hand.  
Merlin sits back down next to Arthur, but he doesn't touch him, as he has an inkling, that this would be too much, for Uther as well as for Arthur.  
“We’ve been through your room, Arthur. We found your stash.” He pauses, waits for his son to say something, but Arthur doesn't react.  
“We’ve been looking into some programs.” While Uther is talking, Morgana is staring out of the window, not able to look at her brother.  
Merlin sees, how Arthur's jaw is clenching.  
“I don't need programs.” He spits, “I’m not an addict.”  
Embarrassed silence fills the room. Uther and Arthur are staring at each other.  
Then Uther starts to talk again. Quieter than before.  
“I’ve been to your flat. It was a total mess. Dirty and sticky. It smelled like something was rotting. There was nothing to eat, only empty take out containers and empty whiskey and beer bottles. It just looked like every other junkie flat I’ve seen so far.” Uther says.  
“I am NOT a drug addict.” Arthur protests again.  
“Then maybe an alcoholic with chronic back pain?” Uther offers cynical.  
“Haha, very funny.”  
“Nothing about this whole situation is funny Arthur. I'm shocked to see how serious this is, and that's why you are going into treatment, when they discharge you.” Uther tells Arthur.  
“You are forgetting that I am an adult, you can't force me to go anywhere.” Arthur murmurs feebly.  
“And you’re forgetting that you are completely dependent on me. I'm giving you the roof over your head and the food on the table. You never worked a day in your life.” Uther reminds Arthur maliciously.  
“Just kick me out then.” Arthur shrugs his shoulders, playing cool, but Merlin can feel anger and frustration radiating from him. His hands are clenched to fists, so tightly, that his knuckles are shining white.  
“I would never do that, because you are my son Arthur, and believe it or not, I want to help you and not punish you.”  
Before Arthur can open his mouth to disagree, Morgana pipes up.  
“Please Arthur, he's right. You need help.” Her voice is thick with tears.  
“So you are on his side?” Arthur looks disappointed.  
“There are no sides, Arthur. Not this time.”  
Feeling betrayed by his sister, Arthur closes his eyes and refuses to say anything anymore.  
Uther clears his throat, disturbing the heavy silence.  
“There's still one thing I need you to do.” He says softly.  
Arthur opens his eyes again, irritated by the gentle tone.  
“What? What do you want me to do?” Arthur is so tired of fighting that he's going to give in, just so he can have a quiet minute.  
“I want you to have an HIV test.” 

Merlin finds the whole situation oddly amusing. It's like something out of a soap opera. They have all they need: the gay couple everyone loves, well, at least all the girls do, the rocky father-son relationship, the secret alcohol and drug addiction that finally comes out, the self-harm, as a cherry on top. And now, for good measure, the specter HIV infection is thrown in, too. He has to keep himself from snorting at that.  
Unfortunately, Arthur doesn't share his amusement. Quite the contrary. Given by his facial expression, he's on the edge of going ballistic.  
“Why? Why would I need to do that?” He asks upset.  
“There you were yesterday, talking to me about how you accepted that I am gay, and today you come and rub my nose in some fucking cliché. Of course all gay people are HIV positive.”  
“I haven't said that. And it's not a cliché Arthur, there are statistics. And according to this statistics you are in two risk-groups now.” Uther says calmly.  
“That's bollocks! I'm not a drug addict and even if I where, it's not like I'm injecting drugs and share needles with someone.” Arthur feels humiliated, lying in this fucking hospital bed, listening to his father throwing all these things at him.  
“And for the other thing,” he looks at Merlin, “we’re together for nearly a year now, aren't we?” Merlin nods to that.  
“In this time, Morgana had about five boyfriends. Did you ask her to get tested?” Arthur looks at his sister challenging.  
“That's unfair Arthur, you know that.” Morgana says quietly, she's white as a ghost.  
“Is it? I tell you what's unfair: to be treated as a incubator for a fucking virus, because of your sexuality. That's unfair, sis.”  
In that moment they are interrupted by a woman walking into the room.  
“I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm here to talk to Mr. Arthur Pandragon?”  
Arthur nodded. “That's me.” He confirmed.  
“Great. If we could talk in private, please?” She politely asks the others to leave the room.  
Merlin squeezes Arthur's hand, before he gets up and walks out as well. 

“I thought you needed saving, that was a heated discussion.” The woman says friendly.  
She's maybe in her thirties, plain looking, but she has friendly eyes, that sparkle with humor.  
“I’m Dr. Harvey, but you can call me Anne.” She offers.  
“I'm the psychiatrist from the mental health service.”  
Arthur nods, he had figured as much.  
She takes the seat, where Merlin sat before.  
“I need you to answer me some questions. It is important that you answer me honestly. As I'm bound to medical confidentiality, I'm not going to tell anyone, beside your doctors, what you told me, alright?” She waits for him to confirm his agreement, he does with a nod.  
She asks about the drugs, how often he takes them, how much he drinks and about his self-harm. She doesn't ask stupid questions and Arthur has the impression, that she's actually really listening to him.  
“Look Arthur, I think that you can go home, I believe you, when you say that this wasn't a suicide attempt, I think you lost control when your support system failed.” Anne says after a while.  
Arthur looks at her and waits for the but to come.  
“But,” she begins, “I think it would be good for you to see a therapist. I'm giving you a list with some of my colleagues and I'm going to leave you some flyers with organizations that have programs against drug and alcohol abuse.” She rummages through her bag and pulls out some papers and colorful flyers. She puts them on the small bedside table.  
“Look at them later, but please do look at them. Because I'm sure that you know that this is heading in the wrong direction, but everything I can do at this point, is to tell you where you can get help if you want it. I can't force you to make use of it. It's your decision, Arthur.” She says seriously and Arthur has to fight the urge to cover his ears with his hands, because he doesn't want to hear it.  
“And maybe you should think about taking that HIV- test, just to be sure. You had quite a few blackouts over the last year, hadn't you?” She reminds him gently.  
Arthur thinks back to all this disturbing situations, were he woke up in unknown places without any memory how he’d gotten there and what he had done before.  
He nods tiredly, he feels drained by all the painful truths he's been through the last hour.  
Anne smiles at him. “I believe you are an intelligent young man, Arthur, you’ll get through this. But you need to make decisions. Think about what you want. And than act accordingly. I know it's not as easy as it sounds, but I believe it's the only way life works. With everything.”  
She gets up and flattens her clothes.  
“Could you send them away? The people who are waiting outside? I need to be alone for a bit.”Arthur asks her, he doesn't even want to see Merlin right now.  
She smiles at him again. “Sure.” She walks to the door.  
“Bye Arthur, take care.” And with that she's gone and Arthur sinks back in his pillow, he doesn't feel much more than tiredness now. So he closes his eyes and within seconds he's asleep. 

When he wakes up, it's almost evening again. He asks a nurse if he can take a shower and she shows him the washroom. It's a bit complicated to shower without getting his injured arm wet, but thankfully it's only the left one so it mostly works. He feels so much better, dressed in his own clothes.  
Another nurse brings him his dinner and changes the bandage. She tells him that the doctor has cleared him to go home the next morning. He asks her to take yet another blood sample, to get tested.  
Then he's alone again and he takes a look through the leaflets Anne has left him. Most of them are badly made, with depressed looking people on them and he suddenly gets angry. He doesn't know why and what exactly he's angry about, but he grabs all of them and throws them in the paper bin by the door. Some of them are landing on the floor, but he doesn't bother to pick them up. 

At least his sister has brought him a book too. So he forces himself to concentrate on the story and to stop thinking about the papers in the bin.  
He reads until they extinguish the lights and quietness is taking over the busy station.

In the middle of the night, someone comes in his room, he's still awake because he has slept away half of the day. It's the nurse on night shift and he pretends to be asleep, because he doesn't want to talk.  
She only stays for a minute and she already turns to leave the room again, when she notices the flyers lying on the floor. She bents over and picks them up. Holding them in the dimmed light, coming from the corridor she reads them. Then she bents down again to collect them out of the trash.  
She walks over and places them tentatively on the bedside table next to Arthur.  
It's Laura, Arthur recognizes her on her red hair, that shimmers in the sparse light.  
“I don't need them.” He says and makes her jump.  
“God, I thought you were asleep.” She says.  
“I'm not. And I don't need them, throw them away on you way out, please.” He knows that he is rude and she don't deserve it, but he can't help it.  
She sighs deeply and pulls the chair close to sit down next to him.  
“What are you doing?” Arthur asks confused.  
“I want to tell you something. I know you probably don't want to hear it, but it's important.” Her voice is rough and quiet, just above a whisper.  
Arthur waits for her to speak.  
“I was a little bit older than you, when I fell in love with the wrong guy.” She begins and Arthur groans inwardly, he's not in the mood for a sappy heartbreak story, but he lets her talk anyway.  
“I was doing everything for him, I was breaking my back for him to like me. I isolated myself from all my friends. I changed completely, just to please him and then one day, he suddenly left for good. And I was there all alone. I didn't even know who I was without him anymore.” She pauses, lost in thoughts.  
“Then I started drinking to bear the loneliness. In the beginning just a glass wine more than usual on the weekend and then a little bit more and a little bit more. And then I was drinking nearly every day. It became a routine for me, waking up with a hangover, getting through the day, buying booze on my way home, get drunk again.”  
Arthur now is listening to her, he feels truth in her words, he can hear the suffering in her voice, without her sounding over dramatic. She just tells him how it was, simply as that. She doesn't need to tell him about the headaches, about the nausea about the strength it took to keep herself together at work. He knows. And she knows that he knows.  
“I started to make myself sick, every night after my binge. So the hangover wouldn't be too bad the next morning. My colleagues started to talk behind my back, but I think they thought I was bulimic or something like that.” She laughs a little sad laugh.  
Arthur wants to comfort her. She's so sweet and she doesn't deserve to be so sad. She stopped talking by now.  
He needs to clear his troth twice, before he can produce a comprehensible sound.  
“What did you do then?”  
“My Neighbor next door was a mate before I met Jimmy, but he didn't like her, so I lost contact with her. But somehow she caught on that I wasn't doing so well; that I was drinking and she started to take care of me. Like inviting me to dinner or to go out. I hardly ever took her offer, but she never stopped asking if I was ok. And then she came with these flyers.” She slightly flicks the leaflets on the desk.  
“And at first it made me embarrassed and angry, like it made you angry too.” She looks at Arthur, all he can see are her eyes, shining in the sparse light, her facial expression is swallowed by the dark.  
He hums quietly, no need to deny it.  
“But she was persistent and she offered to go there with me.” She takes the Brochure that lies on top in her hand and looks at it thoughtfully.  
“I actually went there.” She shows Arthur the flyer of a counseling center uptown. He has to squint to see it.  
“They have great people there. They know what they are talking about.”  
Arthur shrugs his shoulders, he doesn't know what to do with that information.  
Laura sighs softly and puts the leaflet back on the stack.  
“Please Arthur, you might not be dependent on the drugs and alcohol yet, but if you are going on like that, you will be. And believe me, that's an even lonelier place to be, because sooner or later it's only you and your drug of choice.” The earnestness of her words makes Arthur shiver.  
“I'm scared.” It's the first time he admits it to someone. He's scared of everything, of a life with the drugs, he's scared of a life without them. The relationship with Merlin scares him, because it terrifies him how deep he feels for him.  
“I know, we all are. But getting high or drunk doesn't help.” She says gently, leaning back on her chair.  
“I'm not gonna lie to you. This won't go away miraculously. It never does. But after a while it feels better. When you are in control, when you don't have to be ashamed of yourself anymore. It gets easier to make the right decisions.” Her voice is steady now, not as vulnerable as it was in the beginning.  
Arthur nods, she's the first one he actually feels he can relate to.  
She smiles, the light is reflecting on her teeth. “I heard your boyfriend is a real sweetheart. He was entertaining the nurses with some magic tricks today.”  
Arthur smiles back, that just sounds like Merlin.


	19. Folsom Prison Blues - Johnny Cash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but this story is slowly coming to an end. So let me know what you are thinking, I just love your comments.  
> Thank you all for reading!

Arthur is all packed, ready to go. Impatiently he waits for his father to pick him up. The nurse changed the bandage again and the doctor told him one last time, that he needs to stop doing drugs and quit the drinking. Arthur nods to it all, although he's not really listening, he just wants to leave. 

Uther doesn't say much when he picks him up and Arthur is grateful for that. There's an unknown tenderness in his fathers silence as they drive home. It's a peace-offering. 

Without any further conversation, Arthur disappears into his room and crawls into his bed. Hospitals are not really places where you can relax, so he's still tired and exhausted.  
He sleeps for a few hours until midday. The house is quiet when he wakes up. Morgana seems to be gone, because her car is not there anymore and Uther probably has buried himself with some paperwork in his study. 

Arthur makes himself some tea, warming his cold hands on the hot tea cup. He always liked the kitchen, because this room still breaths the spirit of his mother. It's bright and cozy, with a large, wooden table dominating the room. Through the glass door, you can see into the small backyard garden and just outside is a little herb garden, but it has been neglected, since Morgana and he moved out.  
Before the old refrigerator broke down a few years ago, some children's drawings had been pinned to it. All Morgana's, from the time Ygraine was still alive. After such a long time, they were so faded, that some of them even appeared to be just blank paper. Uther himself never even did think about decorating the walls with anything, let alone Arthur's unskillful doodles. And since Ygrain was gone, no new drawings went up, and then even them were gone too.  
Arthur doesn't think that Uther threw Morgana's drawings away, surely he has them collected somewhere, because he's sentimental like that.  
Maybe he will ask him about them, because for him, these drawings seem even more connected to his mother than to his sister.  
Arthur sighs and gets up to prepare something to eat. At least his father hasn't locked away the kitchen knives, like he used to do. 

Morgana still is absent when Arthur and Uther share their meal in silence. Arthur doesn't ask where she has gone, because he's still slightly mad at her. But he hopes that she will be back soon, because he feels better when she's there. Like she's the thin membrane, that keeps him and Uther from clashing too often.  
“Did you think about what's going to happen?” Uther asks.  
Annoyed Arthur puts his fork down. “I'm home for three hours, for gods sake. Give me some time to figure things out.”  
“The new semester starts in a few days.” Uther reminds him.  
“I know!” Arthur massages his temples, he can feel a headache coming on.  
“I still think you should be in a rehab center.”  
Arthur gets up and puts his plate on the counter, although he has not even finished eating.  
“Not going to happen.” Arthur has to restrain himself from slamming his fist into the counter.  
But loosing it won't help him to convince his father, that he isn't mentally unstable and besides that, his injured arm is already hurting enough.  
So he takes a deep breath and with demonstrated calmness he puts his plate into the dishwasher.  
“Arthur…” Uther begins again.  
Arthur turns and walks away. 

Idly he stares at the ceiling of his room, when Morgana knocks on his door and stuck her head in, before he even can give her the permission to come in.  
“I'm back, darling.” She says, sitting down next to him, uninvited.  
“Were have you been?” He would prefer not to talk to her, to at least let her know, that he's still mad at her, but the silent treatment seems somehow childish and in fact he's actually curious where she has been.  
“At home, packing some things. I took hols. I'm off for two weeks.”  
“What? Where are you going?” He can't believe that she's leaving, just now, when he needs her the most.  
“I'm staying here of course, silly.” She smiles at him and suddenly his grudge against her is forgotten. How could he even think she would just leave, of course she takes time off work to be with him.  
He sits up to gives her a hug, “Thank you Morgana. I love you.” He mumbles into her raven hair.  
She hugs him back tightly. “I love you too, Arthur.”  
“I'm sorry for what I said in the hospital.” He apologizes sheepishly.  
She looks down at her hands and he knows that he has hurt her badly.  
“It's alright.” She placates him. “It was a horrible situation.”  
She stands and picks up her bag.  
“Well, I’m gonna get settled over there.” She points into the direction of her old room on the other end of the corridor. She now has to share it with a treadmill and old magazines, but her bed is freshly made, always ready to be slept in.It’s Uthers subtle way to tell his children that they still have a place in his house.  
“Like it used to be. You and me, here.” Morgana says with a small smile. Arthur doesn't know if that's so desirable, he thought he had moved on, but maybe he had been moving too fast. That damn Icarus story. Arthur continues to stare at the ceiling.

Merlin is texting, asking if they could see each other and Arthur feels a little bit rebellious, when he tells him to come over. He never had a friend over, much less a boyfriend. But if Uther is determined to keep him here, he has to put up with Merlin visiting, Arthur decides.  
When the doorbell rings, Arthur nearly trips while running down the stairs. Uther comes out of his study, the moment Arthur and Merlin are sharing a hello kiss.  
Merlin can't hold back a grin when he sees Uther standing in the corridor. His expression a comical mixture of surprise and shock. But only a second, then he gets a grip on himself and his face is blank again.  
“I didn't know you would have company tonight?” It doesn't really sounds like a question.  
Arthur opens his mouth to come back with something, but Merlin warningly squeezes his hand and instead of starting a fight, he gifts Uther with his brightest smile.  
“Good evening Sir.” Merlin greets cheerfully. “I won't stay long.” He promises.  
Uther shrugs his shoulders and goes back into his study.  
Arthur looks a bit dumbfounded about his fathers tameness. Merlin laughs at his puzzled expression.  
“Come on. Lets get some privacy, huh?” Merlin nudges Arthur back to life. 

Merlin has the talent to feel at home almost immediately everywhere. His implicitness towards the room and the house, even takes away Arthur's awkwardness. Merlin is acting as if he's been here a thousand times, and it makes Arthur finally feel at home too.  
For the hundredths time of the last week he feels like a teenager again. But this time it feels really good. Merlin and him are snuggled together on the bed, watching a movie on his laptop, sharing a bowl of crisps.  
Arthur can't even remember the last time they did this, or went to the cinema together.  
Has he really been that self absorbed?  
He presses a kiss on top a Merlins head.  
“I love you.” He whispers into the dark mess of his hair.  
Merlin looks at him and his blue eyes sparkle, but there is a hint of sadness too.  
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?  
“You said you love me.” Merlin answers and Arthur doesn't understand anything. It's not like he hasn't said it before.  
“I’ve said it before, haven't I?" He replies confused.  
“Yes.” Merlin nods and his eyes are shimmering wet, but he's not crying. “But this was the first time you said it sober.”  
A feeble “oh,” is everything Arthur can think of to say to that. He just hugs Merlin a little bit tighter.  
“I love you too,” Merlin says after a while, “just in case you were wondering.” He grins.  
Arthur kisses him again. He hadn't even noticed that Merlin hadn't said it back, too lost in his thoughts. He really needs to stop to be so self centered. 

The week inches on like this. Arthur is spending his days either reading or staring at the walls of his room. Merlin comes by in the evenings and spends a few hours with him. That's when his mind comes to a rest and he just enjoys the company. Right now, their relationship feels a little more like they are best friends instead of lovers. The kisses they exchange are almost innocent. Arthur thinks it's not only because he feels uncomfortable under his fathers close monitoring, but that Merlin is trying to be what Arthur needs him to be the most. He still feels emotional so raw, since the hospital, that simple feelings are overwhelming him. So he's not even sure, how he would handle more than a chaste kiss. But Merlin seems to sense that and is very cautious not to overstrained Arthur in any way. 

Arthur wishes, that that could be said for Uther and Morgana too. Morgana is very hard to convince to leave him alone for just a few hours, if he would allow it, she would probably sleep in his room too. And Uther is getting nervous about Arthur’s abeyance, his lethargy annoys him, and Arthur senses, that with each day that passes and he hasn't come up with a plan to be a useful human being again, Uther has to restrain himself from blowing up.  
The semester begins and Arthur feels nowhere near ready for it. He gets a sick not from the hospital for the next two weeks, so he won't loose his seminar place, when he finally makes his mind up.  
He doesn't tell his father, but to him, it becomes clearer every day, that he won't go back to Uni, not for law at least.  
Uther goes back to work, but Morgana stays with him, and sometimes, he has to admit, it feels nice. They have fun together. Sorting out old photographs or just going grocery shopping.  
But sometimes Arthur feels like a prisoner. He can't even take a walk alone outside. He get that they don't trust him, he wouldn't trust himself either, but still…

On the eighth day of being home, he finally has enough of being under this constant surveillance. Quietly he slips through the front door.  
He breathes in deeply, before he starts walking down the street.


	20. Lifes what you make it - Rowland S. Howard (Talk Talk Cover)

All Merlin can think of is Arthur. When he wakes up, when he goes to sleep and in between… it's always Arthur.  
Memory's of him, good ones, bad ones, like he's gone, like they broke up. Sometimes Merlin has to remind himself that Arthur is still there, that they are still together, when his mind drifts into darker thoughts.  
He deals with this invasion of his mind the only way he knows. Paint it on the walls. For the world to see.  
Every evening he sneaks his cans past Uther, and every night after he visited Arthur, he works on his piece.  
There, where he talked to him for the very first time. Well, he doesn't count the accident with the spilled coffee, because then he only yelled at him. 

Merlin already senses that something is wrong, when nobody opens after he rings the doorbell. He rings a second time and a third time, getting more nervous by the second.  
Finally Uther opens the door.  
He stares down at Merlin.  
“It's you.” He growls. “Arthur's not here.”  
Merlin frowns, he can smell the alcohol in Uthers breath. What the hell happened?  
Uther steps aside and holds the door open for Merlin to step in. Merlin doesn't really know what to do, but Uther seems to expect him to follow, so he walks behind Arthur's father into the living room.  
He has not been there yet, it's a dark room with antique furniture. All about this room is calling out expensive and masculinity. Merlin wonders if a detective really owns that much money.  
Uther strolls over to the sideboard, where a open bottle of whisky is standing besides a heavy crystal glass. Two fingers of the golden brown liquid, quivering in it.  
Merlin wonders if the habit of drowning sorrows in alcohol as well as the preference for whisky is running in the family.  
Uther makes a questioning gesture, offering Merlin a drink too, but he shakes his head. He really wants to know what is going on.  
Groaning, Uther takes a seat in a vintage eames chair, Merlin would admire more, if he wasn't worried about Arthur right now.  
“He left a note, said we shouldn't worry, he would be back.” Uther says into the blue and Merlin begins to place together that Arthur apparently has bunked off.  
“That stupid boy, how are we supposed not to worry, when he always does irrational things like that?” Uther complains, sipping from his drink.  
“What did I do wrong?”  
Merlin has to suppress his anger, because wallowing in self pity is not going to help anyone.  
“I'm going to look for him.” He says, already on his way to the door.  
“I know who you are.” Uther says suddenly and Merlin freezes.  
He turns around slowly. “What?”  
“I know that you go by the name Merlin, right?” Uther asks. He laughs at Merlins shocked expression.  
“Oh please son, it wasn't that hard to find out. You’ve been arrested for vandalism before. Michael Emrys – Merlin, and Arthur in the middle, I just put two and two together.”  
Seconds go by where nobody says a word. Merlin knows he should run, but he can't, his whole body seems to be turned to stone.  
“Look Merlin,” Uther begins, “I’m not thrilled about your criminal record and your engagement in illegal activities, but in fact, it's not my responsibility to keep the streets clean, it's other people's duty.” He pauses and sips from his drink.  
“I do think, that you really care for Arthur and that you are good for him. He seems more relaxed and stable when you're around. And whatever monster my son makes me out to be, I always just wanted him to be happy.”  
Uther seems close to tears and Merlin wonders how much he already had to drink.  
“So I’m letting you off with a warning. Don't get caught , cause I can't protect you, and keep Arthur the hell out of it.”  
Merlin nods his head. “Yes Sir.” He says meekly.  
“If you don't mind, I would like to go and see if I can find Arthur.” Merlin tries to get out of the room as fast as possible.  
Uther nods dismissively and turns his attention back to the glass in his hand. 

Arthur rings the bell to Gwains apartment. Gwain lives in one of these shitty one room apartments on the edge of town. Lucky for him, Gwain is home and lets him in, with his ever present grin on his face even wider when he sees Arthur.  
“Prince Arthur! I haven't seen you in a while… where have you been?” He cheers, obviously high as a kite.  
Arthur only shrugs his shoulders and follows Gwain into the flat.  
There's a girl passed out on the bed. Arthur quickly looks away, because she's only sparsely dressed.  
“Oh, don't mind her, she had a few to many.” Gwain says with a wink, but at least he has the decency to throw a blanked over her.  
Arthur lounges on the couch, already getting cozy.  
Gwain sits down next to him, pulling the bong close to prepare it.  
Arthur knows he shouldn't, but when Gwain offers it to him he accepts it.  
Letting his head loll of on the cushions when this familiar heaviness hits him. This just feels so fucking good. He smiles over to Gwain, who grins back.  
“Good stuff, isn't it?” He nods.  
“Seriously mate, where have you been? We missed you. No answer on any texts and Merlin didn't say anything either, in fact he's gone too, the last few days..” Gwain goes on talking and Arthur wishes he would just shut up.  
“Do you have anything stronger?” He interrupts Gwain.  
Gwain thinks for a second, but shakes his head.  
“I have some beer in the fridge.”  
“Can I have some?”  
“Sure. Go on, help yourself” Gwain gestures to to refrigerator in the corner.  
“Bring me one too.”  
They're halfway through their second beer, when Gwain looks down on his phone and types something.  
“That was Merlin, asked if you are here. Your phone is of, apparently.”  
“Shit.” Arthur curses. “You told him that I'm here?”  
“Sure. Why? Shouldn't I have done that?” Gwain looks confused. “You two are alright, aren't you.” Arthur almost has to laugh at his concerned face.  
“Long story, but yeah, Merlin and I are alright.” At least he hopes that they are still alright.  
Arthur knows that Merlin is coming to get him, so he has two options; either do one and find a place to sleep for the night or stay here and wait for Merlin to take him home.  
But he's far too stoned to even move right now, so this decisions is easy to make. He will stay here, inhale a couple more heads and wait for Merlin. 

Sure enough an hour later, Merlin walks over the door step.  
“Thought I would find you here.” He says, and Arthur can't detect if he's angry or not.  
“Oi stranger,” Gwain claps hands with Merlin, “sit down, have a beer.” He invites him. But Merlin shakes his head.  
“At least someone should be able to walk straight.” He says.  
“Arthur, give me your phone. I need to text Morgana; she's looking for you.” There it is, a hint of reproach and Arthur does feel guilty about worrying his sister. He turns on his phone and unlocks it, then he gives it to Merlin.  
Merlin types something and throws it back into Arthur's lap.  
“I wrote that you are alright and will spend the night at my place.”  
Arthur nods relieved.  
“I'm hungry.” Arthur complains.  
“Chinese food on our way home?” Merlin suggest and Arthur nods happily.  
“Yeah.”  
“Good to go, love?” Merlin asks.  
Arthur nods and pushes himself to stand.  
“You're already leaving?” Gwain is disappointed, “we haven't seen each other in a while. When do we plan our next project?”  
“We gonna catch-up soon, Gwain. We just need to sort some things out.” Merlin promises.  
Arthur has finally managed to slip into his shoes and now wraps his arms around Merlins waist from behind. Merlin can't help but smile. At least stoned Arthur is cute. Much better than a drunken, sad Arthur. 

They take the underground and Arthur is looking at Merlin and somehow it's like he's been in this situation before. He's not really sure if it is a memory or a dèjá vu. Somewhere he read, that dèjá vus happen, when the brain works too slow. Was Merlin always this beautiful? His mouth is too dry, a coke would be nice.  
“Next one is ours.” Merlin interrupts Arthur's stream of consciousness.  
When they step out of the tube, Arthur's hand slips into Merlins naturally, so he won't loose him in the crowd of all these people, looking for fun and love in the drunken heat of another Friday night. Merlin fiddles with the heavy silver ring, Arthur wears around the index finger of his left hand, like he always does. 

The little old lady in the Chinese takeaway smiles when she sees them.  
“Not see you for long time, it's nice that you come again.” She says happily, while frying noodles for Arthur and vegetables for Merlin. She gives them the sodas for free.  
Merlin laughs at Arthur's expression of pure bliss, when he digs into his noodles.  
When they are finished, stepping out into the street again, Arthur automatically turns into the direction of Merlins flat, but Merlin holds him back by his sleeve.  
“I want to show you something.”  
Arthur nods and follows his boyfriend, without asking questions.  
After a few meters, he knows where they are going. He stops short.  
“Please don't tell me you want to tag something now, because I have had it.” Arthur refuses to go on.  
Merlin shakes his head.  
“No, don't worry, from now on, I keep you out of it. Otherwise your father would bite my head off anyway.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“Your father knows who I am. He called me out today.” Merlin says casually.  
Arthur on the other blanches. “What? How…Why?” He stutters.  
Merlin laughs softly. “Relax Arthur. He basically told me that he doesn’t care, but that I better not be caught, and to keep you out of it.”  
“Oh my god.” Arthur still is shocked.  
“Come on, I still want to show you something. And yes, it has something to do with graffiti, but you’ll like it, I promise.” Merlin says mysteriously and in his excitement nearly trips over his own feet.  
“I’ll never understand, how a clumsy klutz like you, can be fast and pliant like a cat.” Arthur says, while holding Merlin upright on his shoulder.  
Merlin sticks his tongue out. 

They slip into the siding through the hole in the fence Merlin made the day they finally met. It hasn't been fixed yet, probably nobody even noticed that it was there.  
Merlin points up at the jut on the bridge, crossing over the siding, just under the place Arthur used to sit.  
There is his name, beautifully painted in an ancient carolingian minuscule, a crown sitting askew on the A and the whole writing is underlined by a impressively designed sword. It's like a declaration of love to him, to his name and to this legend that their names speak of.  
“Merlin,” he begins, voice choked with emotion, “Merlin, this is so beautiful.”  
“Do you like it?” Merlin sounds a bit unsure, “I thought you might find it a bit tacky…” he trails off.  
“No, it's truly beautiful.” Arthur pulls Merlin close and kisses him deeply. “Thank you so much!”  
“Come on, we shouldn't be down here too long.” Merlin reminds Arthur and they leave the place the way they came. 

Instead they climb over the barrier of the bridge and sit down side by side.  
“By the way, it was Mordred who called the cops that night.” Merlin tells Arthur.  
“That little bastard. How do you know?”  
“Words got round. But now he has no stand round here anymore. Even though the different crews are in rivalry with each other, the street art community has its codex, and calling the cops, is the worst thing he could do. Everyone of his tags and pieces is going to be crossed.”  
Arthur nods to that. 

They stay silent for a while until Merlin clears his throat.  
“Arthur, I don't mean to pry, but what do you want to do? I mean with your life, with us?”  
Arthur squeezes Merlins hand and sighs.  
“Us is the only thing I'm sure about. The other stuff, I don't really know.” Arthur stares into the dark, cloudy sky. “I don't want to study law anymore. I hate it. I was thinking about…” he trails off.  
“What, what do you want to do?” Merlin asks persistently.  
“I thought about sport science and maybe politics...become a teacher.” Arthur mumbles.  
“That's great, why are you embarrassed about it?” Merlin doesn't understand Arthur's reservation.  
“My Dad will never let me quit law for sports.” Arthur says. “In his opinion, athletes are dumb people.”  
“I wouldn't say that your father is stupid, but sometimes he's just not right.” Merlin leans on Arthur's shoulder.  
“You would be a great teacher, I think.”  
They sit there, dangling their feet until Merlin begins to shiver.  
“We should go home, I'm tired.” Arthur says.

He helps Merlin to climb over the barrier again and, being the perfect gentlemen, he drapes his jacked around Merlins shoulders.  
“You do look cute in my clothes.” He says as they start to walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was sappy, wasn't it...  
> Only one last chapter to go!
> 
> Thanks everyone who reads this and a special thank you to the very loyal SP...  
> I read and appreciate every comment, it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside :)


	21. The Book of Love - The Magnetic Fields

Arthur leans back on the couch, balancing a bowl with delicious curry on his knee. Gwen and Merlin cooked it earlier.  
The whole crew is here. Percy and Leon are seated on the floor, lunging on the two beanbags Merlin absolutely wanted to have, even if they were so expensive that they could have bought a new couch instead. Now they only have Morgana's old one, what isn't that bad, because the thing is huge. Maybe to big for the small room, but at least everyone has a space to sit, somehow.  
Gwen sits on Lances lap, they are together now, “Finally!” Merlin said, when Gwen told him.  
Since the day they moved in, Merlin and Arthur's flat has become the epicenter of their social life. They all meet here before they go out on the weekends or spontaneous for a shared meal. The flat is close to the Uni and so expensive that they can hardly afford it, but it is tiny and with the rent split in two they make it work.

Arthur turns his head to his left, when the particular smell of very good weed hits him. Gwain is crumbling a rich bud over his tabac filled long paper.  
Arthur feels that unpleasant tug in his chest, that he has defined as want and need. He feels it every time he is near some drugs and sometimes when he walks by one of these well-sorted liquor shops, but that only happens when he has a bad day. The craving crawls up in him and nests somewhere near his heart, until he's somehow able to break the spell again.  
“Oi, how many times do I have to tell you, that this flat is a drug free zone?” He asks amused, because Gwain gives a shit about it, and Arthur likes that. At least he's the only one who's not walking on eggshells around him. He doesn't make him feel like he's the poor addict, always close to a relapse.  
Gwain grins at him and provocative licks the paper, forming a perfect spliff.  
“It's for later,” he says, before he puts it away.  
“Still have to piss in a cup?” Gwain asks sympathetically, just with a little hint of amusement.  
Arthur sighs, “Yeah. It's part of the deal.”  
The negotiations with his father had resembled war strategies. Arthur wanted to move in with Merlin and a fresh start at Uni, while Uther wanted to have at least some insight into his sons life. Arthur called it control, his father called it concern.  
So Arthur was forced to agreed on random drug tests and weekly therapy sessions.  
He hates it both, handing his father these small cups with his still warm urine is humiliating and therapy is even more horrible.  
Spilling his guts to a stranger makes him want to drink more, just to forget. He doesn't think it is helping. It's the third therapist he's seeing, and he is just bearable. At least he doesn't ask as many stupid questions as the others before. Yes, he's aware that drinking on a regular basis is bad and yes, he also knows that taking drugs is dangerous, thank you very much. He doesn't need these middle aged people with a stick high up their arses, to tell him he has a problem.  
But he has gone to the counseling center, Laura had talked about. He wasn’t sure about going there either, but he trusted that nurse more than the Doctors.  
He expected to find something like a shelter for young smack addicts and old homeless geezers, but it wasn't. All sorts of people are meeting here.  
He even meets Laura again, she still sometimes comes here, the Tuesday evening group is something like a crutch for her, she says.  
They often go for coffee afterwards. They have become friends, the kind of friends that do not need to talk much.  
During the sessions Arthur doesn't say much, but he listens. Because that's all the people need that come here, someone who listens without judging. Most of them have relatives, supportive ones, but they can't talk to them. For Arthur it's the same.  
No matter how many times Merlin tells him he's there for him, ready to listen, Arthur can't talk to him. Whenever he tries, no words come out.  
Merlin goes to a group meeting too, the same room, different day of the week. This group talks a lot more than the other one. Sharing their concerns, their anger and desperation with each other, it makes it easier to deal with their loved ones silence. 

“I’m sorry guys, but I have to ask you to leave now.” Merlin says after a glance at his watch. “Arthur and I have Uni tomorrow."  
They all look at Arthur, who slightly blushes.  
“You are going back to Uni?” Gwen asks softly and smiles encouraging.  
Arthur nods his head. “Yeah, sports, politics and history this time.” He says with a shrug. He doesn't want them to think it's a big deal for him, but Merlin knows that Arthur is in fact very nervous about it. It has been nearly a year now, since he last sat through a lecture.  
“Good for you man.” Lance pats him on the back. “Tell us if you need anything.”  
Arthur nods again.

Merlin can feel that Arthur is struggling, his good mood from before has changed into a brooding one. They stand side by side, Arthur is washing the dishes, Merlin drys them. They can't afford a dishwasher, and the kitchen is too small for one anyway. Normally they are bickering, having fun fights with the tea towels; but Arthur hasn't said anything for about twenty minutes now and Merlin is getting worried.  
“You ok?” He asks carefully. The question startles Arthur and the glass he was cleaning absent minded, slips out of his wet hands. It doesn't brake, only falls back into the water filled sink. Arthur curses anyway, totally overreacting. Merlin can see his hands shake.  
He guides him over to sit on the sofa.  
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”  
Arthur wipes his wet hands on his jeans. “Yeah,” he says, inspecting his fingernails.  
Then he looks at Merlin.  
“What if I mess up again? I mean it wasn't all peachy before, but that whole mess…just because I was too stupid to make it work. I'm a failure.”  
It always hurts Merlin when Arthur talks about himself like that and secretly he feels guilty, because he thinks that it was him, who introduced Arthur to the drugs. But every time he mentions that, Arthur shakes his head and tells him, that not the drugs were the problem, but his way of handling them.  
Merlin takes Arthur's hands in his.  
“Listen, you didn't mess up and you are not a failure. It just wasn't for you. I know you can do this. You work hard, you pull through.” Merlin says sternly.  
Arthur still looks like a kicked puppy.  
“Come on, put your shoes on, we going for a run.” Merlin orders.  
Arthur groans, he's absolutely not in the mood to go for a run now, but because he knows that there is no way to argue Merlin out of it, he does as he's told.

It's already dark outside, but the streetlights are spending enough light, so they won't trip over their own feet.  
Arthur has to hold back, so he doesn't outrun Merlin, but as always, running clears his mind. He stops thinking and only concentrates on his breathing, the movement of his muscles and the sensation of the pavement under his feet. He is thankful, that Merlin forced him to go, because it always works, but he would never go on his own accord.  
He smiles at Merlin, who is jogging next to him, trying to keep up. Arthur loves him for all the things he does for him. 

“Thank you,” Arthur whispers when they lie in bed together.  
“Anytime.” Merlin says, while opening his translation of Parcival, where he stopped reading the last time.  
Arthur listens to Merlin reading to him, while slowly drifting into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's the end.  
> Thank you all for reading, hope you enjoyed it.  
> Special thanks to the readers who left so kind and encouraging comments.  
> And a very special thanks, to you SlytherinnPridee, for being there from the start to the finish, thanks for all you lovely comments! 
> 
> I'm already planing the next story in this fandom, so if you liked that one, make sure to stick around and take a look at my profile once in a while. I'm not gonna lie to you, I don't have a wide range of topics and I do write mostly sad, angsty story's, but I think there are enough people out there who like that.  
> I would love to have some of you as my readers again...  
> Take care, all of you and again Thanks for reading!!


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